


The Last Time I Let you Go

by Why_Live_In_Reality



Series: Play It Again, Starla [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Don't worry, F/M, Fluff and misery included, Romance and Happiness, Sequel, Starla - Freeform, it ends well, it gets bad again, jk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2019-10-13 15:03:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 139,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17490176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Why_Live_In_Reality/pseuds/Why_Live_In_Reality
Summary: A sequel to "The First Summer I knew You."The year is 1982 and Carla McCorkle is headed to roadkill central, Gravity Falls, to reunite with an old friend. But her reunion doesn't quite go as planned...*This is a direct sequel to my first fanfiction, The First Summer I knew You. I'd really recommend that you read that story first before this one.*Once again, I do not own these characters. They belong to the wonderful Alex Hirsh and his amazing team!





	1. April 1982 - The Strangest Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Carla reunites with Stan and this story showcases parts of their life together as they grow old in a house that was never meant to be theirs....
> 
> This is a direct sequel to my first fanfiction, The First Summer I knew You. I'd really recommend that you read that story first before this one.  
> There's a lot of little hints and references to the first story. Probably also best if you've watched both seasons of Gravity Falls from start to finsh. (Who are we kidding? You wouldn't be here if you hadn't already done that :P). The end of this story will contain spoilers for the end of season two. You've been warned.  
> Again, feel free to leave kudos and any constructive (or just pure flattery) comments for me :)  
> Enjoy!

 April 1982

 

It was getting late as I drove out of the main town and onto a quiet side road. Remembering what the young woman at the diner had said, I turned onto an even quieter dirt track that wound through the trees.

“I guess this it.” I muttered, as the road ended in a rough clearing. Taking a good look at the wooden building in front of me, I tried to ignore my growing anxiety. This place looked empty and unlived in... Was this really where Stanford had been for the last 11 years?

Parking the car, I double checked the piece of paper with the address on.

Against all evidence, this seemed to be the right place. I happened to notice a sign outside the building with the words “Murder Hut” scrawled on it.

“Seems trustworthy.” I mused as I grabbed my bag. Getting out of the car, I cast my mind back over the events that had led me here.

 

_It had been an awful month. After receiving the awful news about Stanley Pines dying in a car accident, I’d realised that I’d never see either of the Pines boys again. Stanford and I hadn’t spoken since we were 17, then I’d broken Stanley’s heart in Virginia... It was like I’d lost both of them all over again in one foul swoop. I’d cried for days._

_And then there was the strange phone call from Gina Pines not long after the memorial for Stanley._

_“If Stanford ever contacts you... Don’t ignore him Carla. He’ll need you. I need you to promise me that you’ll be there for him. Even if it means traveling across the country. Please Carla!” she’d all but begged me._

_I’d agreed without really thinking. Stanford had been my best friend. And after so many years to reflect and think, I was more than ready to put our old arguments to one side. Especially after losing Stanley for the second time in my life. _

_If Stanford needed me now, I’d be willing to move heaven and earth to help him. Gina had thanked me tearfully and hung up._

_Only a week later did I receive a letter from Stanford asking me to come to Gravity Falls, Oregon. It had seemed a very unlikely coincidence, but I’d made a promise. Not to mention that I wanted desperately to see Stanford again, to see such an old familiar face and make up for our lost friendship.  And with that, I’d taken a short holiday break and packed up what I might need._

 

Now I was here.

It wasn’t what I’d expected. The cheap signs and promises of murder and mystery were something I would have expected from Stanley, not Stanford. At the thought of Stanley, my heart skipped a beat painfully. I still couldn’t believe Stanley was gone. I should never have let him walk away. Now I’d never get to see him again, to tell him how much I’d missed him, that I’d been wrong...

Shaking my head, I swallowed against the lump in my throat. Stepping up onto the porch, I avoided a broken board and rapped sharply on the door with my knuckles.

“No more tours today. Now buzz off!” A gruff voice called out. I smiled, despite the situation. He sounded so much more like his father, a comparison Stanford would no doubt hate

“You mean you don’t have time for an old friend Stanford?” I asked loudly.

There was a muffled thump and cursing from inside.

“Hold on a moment!”  
I rocked back and forth on my heels slightly. As I glanced around, I thought I saw a face draw back quickly from the window. The quiet anxiety I had been trying to quell since arriving began to flutter harder in my stomach. It suddenly seemed too quiet. Trying to ignore the sense of impending danger, I knocked on the door again.

“Come on Ford! This isn’t funny. It’s me, Carla. I know I didn’t tell you I’d be arriving bu-”

The door opened, cutting me off.

Staring at the person on the other side, all words died in my throat.

Stanford Pines was watching me cautiously. I blinked rapidly and tried to think of something to say. He cleared his throat and gave me a small smile.

“Hi. It’s nice to see you again Carla. It’s been a while.” Stanford said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Any emotion I was expecting to feel was immediately overshadowed by the relief that Stanford had in fact, opened the door.

“Hello Ford...  it’s been too long.” I said as I eyed him up and down, risking a smile. A lump formed in my throat as I saw all the features I’d been so familiar with when we were younger.

“You better come in. It’s still a bit cold out there.” He stood to one side and gestured widely. As I entered the building, I smiled gratefully. Stanford closed the door behind us and I took a look round. We were standing in a long hallway decorated with some dusty shelves and random items. It didn’t look like Ford spent much time in here.

“Uh, follow me...” Stanford turning and headed down the hallway. Following him slowly, I tried to remember how Ford had looked the last time I’d seen him. But since it had been 11 years (and we’d been yelling at each other), I could only draw vague ideas. I was sure that he looked more like Stanley now... but maybe that was just because of the recent tragedy. Or maybe I just wanted to see Stanley in Ford’s features... like a sick sort of remembrance.

We walked across a large, open room before going up a short flight of stairs. I whistled under my breath as I found myself in another hallway.

“Geez Ford. How do you not get lost?” I joked as we turned yet another corner and entered a small lounge area.

“Heh, you kinda get used to it.” He excused. I gave his back a wry smile. This small talk was a step in the right direction. We were actually talking like our friendship hadn’t been torn to shreds.

“So do I get a hug or a high six from my long lost friend?” I asked. Stanford turned to me, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty on his face. I held my arms open in expectation. Stanford dithered for a while before embracing me quickly. I fought back tears as I squeezed him tightly before he drew away, grateful for the gesture from Ford.

“I’m so sorry Ford,” I said quietly, “about Stan. I can only imagine how hard it must of been for you to hear about his death.”

“Oh, yeah. Well I always knew he’d do something dumb and wind up killing himself.” Stanford dismissed.

I stared at him, the happiness from reconnecting almost instantly being replaced by hurt.

“That’s not fair Ford. It was a car crash.” I was shocked by his flippant tone. Stanford shrugged.

“Look at his life Carla. One dumb mistake after stupid failure. If it hadn’t been that car crash, he’d probably have ended up bleeding to death after a fight in some alle-”

I slapped him with all my strength, angry tears starting to fall.

“Don’t you dare say that about him!” I snarled, anger throwing up memories of the last fight Stanford and I had. It had been about Stanley back then too. I guessed nothing had changed.

Stanford held his cheek in shock. I glared at him, chest heaving as I caught my breath.

Something was bothering me about Stanford. He seemed off, not the boy I remembered. Sure, the last time I’d seen him, we’d fought just like this. I’d even slapped him then too. But when had he gone from the quiet nerd who adored his brother to this stranger in front of me? I tried to focus on him.

Stanford had aged badly. He’d always been the leanest of the two twins, now he was definitely on the chubby side. And that mullet... what had he been thinking? He really did look like Stanley, more than he ever had before. I wondered again if it was just me seeing Stan in Ford’s features, or whether Ford had begun to look like Stan after learning of his death... Almost like a subconscious decision made out of loss. No, Stanford was too rational to do that right? Everything here felt off, wrong and unsettling...

The physique, the bad attitude, even the signs for some sort of hokey tourist attraction... It just wasn't like Ford.

As Stanford lowered his hand, my brain suddenly screamed for my attention.

But it was exactly like Stan!

My heart thumped erratically as Stanford rubbed his jaw.

“Geez Carla, did ya have to hit me so hard? I think I’m seeing stars over here.” He grumbled.

“Hands...” I whispered, not quite trusting myself.

“What?” Stanford looked at me nervously.

“Hands.” I repeated louder. Stanford tucked his hands behind his back and shook his head.

“I don’t know what you me-” He protested nervously.

“Dammit Pines! I’m still capable of kicking your ass. Now show me your goddamn hands!” I demanded, my own hands curling into fists to try and hide how badly I was shaking.

Stanford opened his mouth, but just sighed and held his hands out in defeat. Grabbing them roughly, I frantically counted and recounted.

“Ten. Only ten...” I stared up at him in shock as my brain finally put the pieces together. “Oh my god... Stanley?” I breathed. Before he could reply, I flung myself at him and hugged him tightly, my previous angry outburst forgotten.

“Oh my god. You’re not dead! I’m so glad to see you Stanley!” I cried, tears forming in my eyes. Pulling away from him sharply, I stared. “Wait. If you’re not dead, why are you pretending to be Ford? Where is Ford? What the hell is going on?” My mind was spinning.

Stanley chuckled nervously, though he didn’t take his eyes off mine.

“Well I guess I’m rumbled... though I don’t know if I can answer all of your questions.” He said. I stepped away and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Try.” I said matter-of-factly. Stanley sighed and gestured to a yellow recliner.

“Look, will ya sit down? This could take a while.” He said. I sat reluctantly, torn between hearing him out or running. This still seemed very weird, and I was still feeling a little angry about this whole situation.

I settled in the chair as I realised that even if I ran, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find my way back out. So I gestured for Stanley to start talking.

“I know this looks pretty bad...” Stanley started, “but you have to believe me that it’s not what it seems.”  
“So what is it Stanley? ‘Cause right now all I’m seeing is someone who seems to have faked his own death, stolen his brother’s identity and started a gimmicky business...” I groaned and covered my eyes. “This isn’t tax fraud, is it?”

Stanley laughed.

“No It’s not tax fraud... although...” He paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. I looked up and pinched the bridge of my nose with a sigh.

“Focus Stanley. Why did you fake your death?” I asked, trying to keep myself from yelling at him.

“I’ll be honest, I can’t answer that yet.” Stanley admitted as he began to pace back and forth. I followed his movements with my eyes.

“Ok, I’ll start smaller. This is Ford’s house right?” I asked patiently.

“Yes.”  
“Right. So where is Ford?”

Stanley stopped his pacing and stared at the wall. I waited, a little perturbed by his silence about Ford.

“He’s not here... he’s missing.” He said sadly.

“Missing? Missing how?” I asked, my mind reeling at the news Ford wasn’t where everyone thought he was.

“Uhh... That’s where it gets complicated.” Stanley said, screwing his face up in a grimace.

“Jesus Stan! You need to give me a little information here!” I sighed in frustration, slouching in the chair. “If you’re here, then  you must know where Ford went or at least have a clue... Anything would be helpful.” I paused and looked at him again. “And what does this have to do with you impersonating him.”

“Ah, well... someone had to pay his mortgage. And my life really wasn’t going well. I’d lost everything and then I get here and I lost Ford...” Stanley’s voice wavered slightly. “I just figured I could make a new start while I worked out how to get Ford back. And it turned out that the locals were really curious about this place and were practically throwing money at me to see inside! So I started the whole tour thing.” Stanley looked at me with a small smile. “And then you show up and I never thought I’d see you again.” 

I frowned, trying to understand what Stanley had just told me. I couldn’t keep my thoughts or emotions settled for a second since I’d stepped into this house.

“When did you get here?” I asked, trying to organise my thoughts.

“Six or seven weeks ago. Why?” Stanley replied.

“And no one knows Ford is missing right?” I said, ignoring his question. Stanley nodded.

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” I asked. Stanley sighed.

“That leads us back to complicated.” Stanley seemed to be mulling something over. He made up his mind before I could even open my mouth again.

“Come on. I think I need to show you something.” Stanley walked over to a door on the other side of the room. I got to my feet, head still spinning from the conversation. The door led into a large room that must have been a workroom. There were a couple of tables covered with papers and tools.

“I was thinking about turning this into a gift shop.” Stanley chatted as he ran his hand along a section of wall. Glad for the distraction, I latched onto his inane chatter.

“A gift shop? Why? What would you be selling?” I asked as I watched Stanley’s fingers catch a hidden groove in the wall. As he pulled his hand away, a concealed doorway opened in the wall. I felt like my brain had just short circuited, mouth falling open.

“I dunno yet. But if I want to make this place a legitimate tourist attraction...” he trailed off as he walked into the newly opened door. I looked around the edge of the door and saw Stanley begin to descend a darkened set of stairs.

“Oh no... no, no, no...” I whispered, my feet feeling rooted to the spot. This was all too much. Ford was missing... Stanley wasn’t dead but pretending to be Ford... there was a secret passage way... what the hell is this place... gift shop... I grew dizzy as my thoughts spiraled.

“Hey, hey. Carla?” Stanley came back up the stairs and grabbed my arm just as I felt my knees go weak.

“Come on now, just take a couple of deep breaths. Guess I shoulda warned you.” He said lightly as he rubbed a thumb over my hand in a familiar gesture.

“You think?” I muttered as I tried to clear my head. After a few moments, the dizziness passed and I pulled away from Stanley. He tucked his hands in his pockets and began to walk down the stairs again.

“Come on then.”

“No, Stanley wait. This is insane.” I said. Stanley looked back at me. “We’re standing in a secret passage, in a house which is known as the Murder Hut, and you want me to follow you down to the basement to explain why your brother mysteriously disappeared. While you are impersonating said missing brother. Tell me you understand how bad that looks?” I pleaded, my brain desperately trying to make sense of everything.

Stanley held a hand out for me again.

“I swear, you’re in no danger with me Carla.” He said calmly. I laughed nervously, my laugh sounding breathy and shrill in the small space.

“You promise you’re not going to murder me for discovering your secret then? ‘Cause that would kinda suck.” I joked anxiously as I followed him down the stairs. Stanley laughed and punched a code into a strange panel at the bottom of the stairs.

“Remember the promise I made to you all those years ago? That I’d never let you get hurt? I don’t break my  promises.” Stanley reassured me as a set of elevator doors opened next to him. Stepping in, Stanley gave me a rakish grin. “You know, unless there’s money involved... Or maybe revenge.”

“That is not helping Stanley,” I muttered as I joined him, “and neither is this elevator.”

As the doors closed, I was really in two minds about the man next to me.

On one hand, I wanted to throttle him for faking his own death and being so secretive about how Ford went missing. But on the other hand, being only inches away from me after 10 years and his supposed death, all I wanted to do was grab him, kiss him, tell him I was wrong about what had happened all those years ago...

“Look, things are going to seem really crazy down here. But you need to trust me. I swear I’m telling you the truth.” Stanley interrupted my thoughts as the elevator slowed to a stop. Stepping out, Stanley offered my his hand. “Do you still trust me?” he asked. I hesitated.

He’s still your Stanley, he never lied to you, my brain piped up. But he faked his death, and he’s been pretending to be Ford... Did he send the letter? My brain swam with conflicted thoughts about Stanley.

Screwing my face up, I took a deep breath and took Stanley’s hand with a small flutter of butterflies.

“I still trust you.” I said softly, knowing immediately that I truly did. Stanley gave me a grateful smile and we walked along a machinery-filled galley way. Stopping in a control room of some sort, I tried once again to wrap my head around everything. Suddenly I caught sight of something through a window into the next room that made my stomach drop.

It was a giant machine. It was shaped like an upside down triangle and had a circular opening in the middle. It seemed to be lurking there, watching us and I shivered, gripping Stan’s hand tighter.

“Stan,” I tried to keep my voice calm, “what the hell is all of this? And I want the truth.”

“It’s a portal of some sort.” Stanley replied slowly. “Ford disappeared through it. That’s why I couldn’t tell anyone. Who’d believe me?”

I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths. Stan wasn’t wrong about that. _I_ couldn’t believe it and I was standing in front of this portal thing.

“Ok. Start at the beginning. What happened?” I asked, opening my eyes slowly.

“Well, when I first got here, Ford was in a pretty crazy state. Real paranoid. Kept talking about being watched.” Stanley sighed, “He told me I was his last resort. He brought me down here and gave me this book of his.” Stanley reached out and picked up a leather bound book off the nearest counter. “He told me to take it as far away from here as possible. To the other end of the earth if necessary... I didn’t handle it well.” Stanley paused, swallowing back tears.

Despite the crazy situation going on, I squeezed his hand tightly. Stanley gave me a grateful look before continuing.

“I was so confused and upset Carla. I’d lost everything the night Dad kicked me out, not to mention when we...” Stan took a shaky breath and continued. “And then Ford gets in touch with me after all those years. It felt like things might get better, that I had a chance to make things right.” Stanley sighed sadly. “Instead, Ford tells me to get as far away from him as I possibly could. It was like losing him all over again. So I got angry.”  
“Oh, Stan...” I groaned softly, knowing what would’ve happened next.

“Heh, yeah. We kinda fought. Ford even managed to get the drop on me... guess I was outta shape... still am I suppose...” Stanley paused, glancing down at himself.

“Anyway, while we were fighting, I tried to burn the damn book and Ford went nuts. We ended up in front of that thing,” Stanley pointed through the window, “and in all the confusion, I guess it got turned on. Before I knew what was happening, Ford was pulled through it. He managed to throw me the book but – but...” Stanley’s voice broke.

“God, he kept crying for me to help him but I didn’t know, I couldn’t...” Stanley started to cry and I didn’t hesitate. I wrapped my arms around him and we sunk to the floor together. As we sat there, Stanley’s words sunk in and I felt tears prick my eyes as well. How had Stanley been able to cope with this?

“I’m so sorry Stan.” I managed to get out.

“I’ve been trying to get the stupid thing working, to get him back but I can’t! It won’t turn back on! He’s never coming back and it’s all my fault!” Stan sobbed helplessly against me. I stroked his back gently, trying to gather my thoughts. I couldn’t think of anything useful to say, so I just tried to blindly comfort him.

“No. It’s not your fault.” I tried to reassure him. “You couldn’t have known what would happen.”

Stanley pulled back and stared at me, tears still falling.

“I didn’t have to get angry at him... I’m such a screw up.” He said sadly. I shook my head as I wiped his tears away gently, resting my hand against his cheek.

“You’re not a screw up Stan.” I whispered. “This goes beyond things anyone could know. Well, anyone except for Ford.” I added. Stanley snorted and covered my hand with his. Leaning my forehead against his, I sighed. I still didn’t understand any of this, but I certainly wasn’t mad at Stan or Ford anymore.

“I guess this explains almost everything. I still don’t fully understand what that machine even is... but that can wait.” I climbed to my feet and offered my hand to Stanley. “I need to get outta here. And so do you.”

Stanley stood without a word, still wiping away stray tears, and placed the book back on the counter carefully. As we silently left the room, I glanced back over my shoulder at the dark portal machine.

This whole thing seemed crazy... yet I believed everything Stan said. I’d never known him to lie about anything important.

 And as for Ford, tears threatened to spill just thinking about him. God knows where he was at this moment, or if he was even alive. I didn’t even know why he’d built that thing... What had he been up too?

 

X

  
Stanley placed the cup of coffee in front of me.

“Sorry it’s not anything stronger.” He apologised as he sat opposite me. I waved a hand dismissively.

“Coffee’s fine.” I said as I drummed my fingers on the table. The sound of my tapping filled the small kitchen we were sitting in. Stanley took a drink of his coffee.

“So what have you been doing with yourself?” he asked, attempting normality like we hadn’t just been talking about some Stargate portal thing.

“Well I moved back to Glass Shard beach a few years ago.” I smiled, glad of the idle chatter to distract us. “I took up a job as an account not far from the boardwalk.” I stopped my tapping and wrapped my hands around the cup.

“You went back?” Stanley asked. “Why?”

“Oh right, you probably wouldn’t have heard...” I bit my lip and stared at the table top. “My dad passed away suddenly. A brain aneurysm.”  
“Ah geez Carla. I’m so sorry. I really liked your dad.” Stanley said softly. I gave him a sad smile.

“Thanks Stan. He always liked you too.” I paused and took a drink of my coffee. Stan had remembered just the way I liked it, black and bitter.

“Anyway, I needed to sort out the sale of the gym and house... with one thing and another, I just wound up staying.” I sighed. “It’s not as much fun as I remember...”

Stanley sniffed quietly and we fell back into silence, drinking our coffee.

“So where were you before this?” I asked, trying to keep us talking.

“Uh, me? Oh you know, just bounced around...” Stanley seemed embarrassed.

“Stanley... How many states are you banned in now?” I asked with a smile. Stanley rolled his eyes.

“32. But some of them weren’t my fault.” He protested as I laughed.

“I guess it was just luck you weren’t banned in Oregon huh?” I teased. Stanley pulled a face.

“I’m still not banned in Virginia either you know.” He said with a little bit of pride. “They never figured out it was me who rolled that van into the ravine...” Stan trailed off as he realised what he’d said.  I looked down at my cup again, remembering the events that led to that incident.

“I’m sorry about all that Carla.” Stanley said softly. “I shouldn’t of acted the way I did. I was a jerk.”

“No, you were right.” I said quickly. “You were right. It turned out Thistle Downes was hypnotising girls. I wasn’t the only one.” I admitted slowly. “I should’ve listened to you.”

Stanley stared at me.

“Wait, really?” he asked. I nodded.

“But by the time I found out, you were gone and I had no idea how to find you again.” I said sadly. Stanley finished his coffee.

“Yeah, well... I figured there was no point staying where I wasn’t wanted.”

I nodded, feeling the sting of his words.

“I deserve that. I wasn’t too nice about things in the end.” I admitted. I  followed a swirl in the wooden table with my finger, my courage failing me as I thought about all the things I had wanted to tell Stan.

“Did you ever meet anyone else?” I asked quietly, not looking at him. Stanley cleared his throat nervously.

“Well I got married...”

I jerked my head up in shock.

“Only lasted 48 hours though.” Stan laughed quietly. “Shoulda seen it coming really. No one else wanted to me, why would she have?”

My old instinct to comfort and bolster Stan took over.

“Stan, you’re a good man. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life.” I said softly.

Stanley refused to look at me. Rubbing the back of his neck, he cleared his throat.

“What about you? Was there anyone after that idiot Thistle?” he asked, changing the subject. I sat back, with a sigh.

“A couple... nothing really stuck... Though when I moved home, Benjamin Crampelter tried to win me over.” I snorted. “Took great pleasure in turning him down.”

Stanley chuckled.

“Wish I could’ve seen that.” He murmured. I smiled.

“Nah, he got all weird about it. Sent me presents for about six months before he got the message... creep.” I shifted in my seat and stretched. “Nope. There’s only ever been one man for me Stan. And apparently he died last month.” I jibed lightly. Stanley looked up at me.

“What?” he asked disbelievingly.

“You know... the whole fake death thing... it was a joke...” I stammered, taken back by the look on his face.

“No, you think I’m the only one for you?” Stanley asked, leaning forward. I bit my lip.

“Well yeah. I’ve only really been happy when we were together. Right up until the whole hypnotism thing.” I shook my head, a lump forming in my throat. “Then the car crash... It almost killed me when I realised that I’d lost you for good...” I trailed off, tears starting to fall again. There was a scrape of chair legs on the floor and suddenly Stan had his arms around me.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” I said tearfully. “I lost you all over again and...” I cried openly, burying my head into his chest. “I should never have left... I missed you so much Stanley!”

“Shhh. It’s alright Carla. I’m here, I’m still here. Promise.” Stanley stroked my back reassuringly. “I’m a cockroach, remember? I’m invincible.” He added. I snorted and wiped my eyes.

“So we’re good now then Pines?” I asked with a smile, daring to hope a little. Stanley grinned and kissed my forehead, a gesture that immediately took me back to Virginia.

“We’re good Tiny.” He replied. A frown briefly crossed his face. “Though I don’t understand how we’re even having this conversation... why did you come here? Not that I’m complaining.” He hastily waved his hands.

I downed what was left of my cold coffee.

“What do you mean? You sent me a letter.” I said. “Oh rather, you pretending to be Ford sent me a letter.”

Stanley shook his head.

“How could I have sent you a letter? I didn’t even know you’d moved back home until now.” He said slowly. I frowned.

“Oh yeah... but then who...” I trailed off, remembering how weird getting that letter had been. “I got a letter a week ago asking me to come to Gravity Falls. It had Ford’s name and signature on it.”

Stanley looked worried.

“How the hell did you get a letter from Ford when he’s been missing for a month and a half?” he asked. I shook my head.

“I don’t, I don’t know... I thought it was odd at the time. I hadn’t heard from him in years... and to get that letter a few days after that phone call from your mom... I thought it was too much of a coincidence.” I sighed as I had a sudden realisation about what had happened.

“What phone call?” Stanley asked, confusion clouding his face.

“Ever since I moved home, I’ve stayed in touch with your mom.” I explained. “So when she rang about a week ago, I wasn’t surprised... but she asked me to promise her that I’d help Ford if he ever got in touch with me.”

“That’s a bit suspicious.” Stanley mused.

“I think she might have wrote that letter you know? And then made it seem like Ford sent it?” I suggested.

“But how would she know Ford was in trouble?” Stanley countered.

“Maybe she just wanted me and Ford to talk again.” I suggested. “Especially after hearing the news of the car crash.”

“I suppose it’s possible. I’ve seen her do worse to get her way.” Stanley said, raising his eyebrows. “And I guess it kinda worked. Ya are sitting here talking to a Stanford Pines.” He joked.

“I was wondering about that... Are you legally Stanford Pines now? Would that even be possible? Or do you just call yourself Stanford and no one round here knows the difference?” I asked. Stanley shrugged with an easy grin.

“I change identities like other people change clothes. Once I had a fake license, no one knew the difference.” He said matter-of-factly. I shook my head in disbelief.

“You’re a hell of a piece of work you know that?” I said with a grin back, the old banter between us falling back into place like it had never been gone.

“Look at my parents... How could I not be a master of the con art?” Stanley grinned back. Shaking my head, I chuckled.

“I think I’ll just stick to calling you Stan. It just feels wrong to call you Stanford.”

Stanley sat back with a grin.

“Stan works fine. Just try not to call me Stanley. The last thing I need is to get ratted out by my ex-girlfriend.”

I laughed and leaned across the table.

“Does that mean I need to leave? So I can’t blow your cover?” I asked. Stan stared, mouth open.

“You were going to stay?” he asked.

“Of course. I thought an old friend was in trouble. I have at least a week before I need to go back home. Can I stay?” I asked, hardly daring to breathe.

“Of course!” Stan exulted. “Now that someone else knows about Ford and the portal, I don’t have to pretend all the time!”

“So I can really stay? You don’t mind?” I asked again, determined to hear him say it.

“Yes, you can stay. You can even have the bedroom, I’ll sleep down here.” Stan beamed at me. I smiled back, my mind flooded with happiness.

“Guess I might as well grab my stuff then. How do I get back outside from here? Or do I need a map?” I asked as I stood. Stan chuckled and stood with me.

“Come on, I’ll show you the back way out of here.” He said. We walked out to the stairs and Stan unlocked the back door. Emerging out on a back porch, I laughed as I saw the car parked nearby.

“You still have her?” I asked.

Stan chuckled.

“Yeah, she’s the only thing I kept from Jersey. The ol’ gal has seen a few dark days.” He said as we walked today the car. Running a hand along the car’s roof, I grinned.

“Remember our first date with her?” I asked coyly. Stan flushed and coughed awkwardly.

“I don’t think I could forget... It was a hell of a night Carla.” He murmured. I smiled at him, our reunion making me giddy and reckless.

“It was... though it was a good thing I was so flexible.” I jibed shamelessly. Stan was silent, face glowing red. I laughed and nudged him.

“Geez Pines, relax! It’s just a memory.”

We continued to walk around the house to where I had parked my car. Opening the back door, I reached in and grabbed my two bags.

“You packed light huh?” Stan commented. I nodded, straightening up.

“I was only planning for a week’s stay.” I huffed, slinging one bag over my shoulder. Stan quickly reached for the other one.

“Thanks,” I smiled. “Always the gentleman.”

Stan turned away, cheeks still flushed, and we headed back to the back porch.

“So you can just use this door while you’re here. The front is normally used by people who visit the murder hut.” Stan explained.

“Gotcha.” I nodded. We stopped inside the house at the foot of the stairs. Stanley placed my bag down.

“So I can show you the bedroom now... Let you get some rest.” Stan offered.

“Are you sure you want to give up your room? I really don’t mind sleeping on that recliner.” I asked, feeling uncertain about that arrangement.

“Carla, I had to sleep in my car for years. I think I can handle the recliner for a week.” Stan joked, turning toward the stairs. Chewing my lip, I followed him reluctantly.

Hearing that Stan had slept in the Diablo for years, he really shouldn’t be forced to sleep in that recliner now... he deserved a bed. But he was insisting on me taking the bed and I knew better than anyone else that when Stan wanted you to have something, he really didn’t give in until you agreed with him. As we traipsed up to the first floor landing, Stanley pushed open a door.

“I know it’s not the Ritz... but it’s clean... sorta.” He excused, kicking a few clothes behind the door. I tried to hide my smile.

The room was spartan in terms of personality. But there was still traces of Ford in here. A desk was covered in clutter; books, paper, drawings and even an ink bottle.

Stan had simply moved in on top of Ford’s stuff. His clothes were strewn over the floor and he even had his old boxing gloves thrown over the bed posts. I smiled when I saw the state of the bed. Ford had always been the one to make his bed with sharp, neat corners... Stan rarely made his bed, preferring to just climb under the blankets however they were arranged.

“It’s fine Stan.” I placed my bag on the floor as Stan waited for my reaction. Stan gently placed my bag on the floor and fidgeted with his hands. The silence deepened as we stood just inside the doorway, unspoken words and secrets filling the air. Stan broke the silence first.

“So I should get outta your hair and let you rest.” Stan muttered as he moved to leave the room. I followed him back out onto the landing.

“Thanks for letting me stay Stan.” I said quietly. Stan smiled to himself.

“Couldn’t just kick you out... don’t have it in me ta do that.” He said. I reached out and touched his arm, getting him to look at me again. Stepping closer, I leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek. Stan stiffened in shock before gently placing an arm around me. Hugging him, I smiled into his shoulder.

“Heh, I’m glad you’re here.” Stan muttered before kissing the top of my head. We broke apart and he headed back down the stairs with one final glance back at me.

“Me too Stan.” I whispered to myself before heading back into the bedroom.

 


	2. April 1982 - An Old Bet Is Settled

April 1982

 

The morning after arriving in Gravity Falls, I found myself creeping down the stairs carefully. I wasn’t sure if Stan was still a heavy sleeper of not. There were so many things about Stan I wasn’t sure of anymore.

I cautiously poked my head around the doorway into the front room.

Stan was nowhere to be seen.

I hesitated for a moment before entering. There was a blanket thrown over the arm of the recliner. I took a good look around the room as I entered. There had been so much going on last night, I hadn’t had a chance to really take in the state of the house.

There was a huge dinosaur skull next to the couch. I stared at it blankly. There was a coffee-stained ring on top of it.

“Okay... Maybe not the best place to start.” I muttered to myself. “Moving on.”

I walked on through to the old workshop, soon-to-be gift shop. I glanced at the wall where the secret door was and purposely turned my back on it. Despite my curiosity over Ford’s portal, I was in no hurry to go back down there today.

Bending over one of the tables, I saw pages filled with Ford’s writing. Picking one at random, I read it slowly.

_“So far my theories have been correct. But I’m beginning to doubt the truth of those theories. What if everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve done... It’s all been forced upon me? How can I trust HE hasn’t been watching and influencing my every move since arriving here? Could it go back even further? Should I have stayed in Glass Shard Beach?_

_Did he cause the accident with...”_

The paper was torn and was missing the rest of the words. I picked another.

_“Can’t sleep, He comes in my sleep. Can’t sleep, He comes in my sleep. Can’t sleep, He comes in my sleep.”_

The same words were repeated over and over on both sides of the paper, Ford’s writing becoming more and more sloppy until it trailed off in a smudged scribble.

Feeling a quiet unease in my stomach, I picked up a piece of paper with writing that seemed calmer.

_“Carla; 34/12 Spiral Apts, Stevenson rd, GSB, NJ. << would she even want to talk to me again?”_

“Oh Ford.” I said sadly.  “Why didn’t you get in touch?”

Glancing around, I tried to ignore the feeling that I was being watched and chose another random piece of paper.

_“He said there’d be a price. I didn’t want THIS! Why this? God, it hurts! IS this the price of knowledge? I haven’t felt this much pain since I broke my arm. He told me this was needed. A fair deal. He couldn’t help me unless we were equal. God, my eye! I can’t stand this! Please just let it be worth it! Please let it be over so-”_

The writing became obscured with splatters of what I truly hoped was dark red ink.

“Doesn’t read well does it?”

Stan was suddenly behind me and I screamed loudly, my heart flying into my throat.

“Don’t do that!” I smacked Stan on the arm as I turned. “It’s creepy enough in here!” I panted for air while Stan just watched me carefully with wide eyes. Wide eyes behind glasses.

Wait. Glasses?

“You ok?” Stan asked when he judged me to have calmed down.

“When did you get glasses again?” I asked, blurting the words out. “And why didn’t I notice last night?”

Stan shrugged.

“Dunno. Last night was a bit crazy. They aren’t mine anyway. They’re Ford’s.” He took the glasses off his face and looked down at them with a frown. “Probably why they don’t help me much.”

“They help you to look like him I suppose.” I offered. Stan just huffed.

Realising I was still holding the piece of stained paper, I quickly dropped it back on the bench. A shiver ran through me as I glanced around at the other paper littered benches. Who knew what else was written down here. I suddenly REALLY didn’t want to know.

That sensation of being watched began to crawl up my back again and I turned back to Stan who had put the glasses back on.

“I guess you’ve read some of this stuff huh?” I asked. Stan nodded.

“A few bits. Reads like a horror story. Can’t tell when he wrote what either.” Stan frowned again. I bit my lip, glancing over my shoulder.

“Do you ever feel like someone’s watching you in this room?” I asked, wondering if I was imagining things or not.

Stan glanced around.

“A little. Another good reason to turn it into a gift shop.” He said with a smile. I huffed a nervous laugh. Trust Stan to try and put me at ease despite his own problems.

“I need coffee.” I said, suddenly desperate to get out of this room.

“Come on. Coffee and breakfast it is.” Stan smiled, gesturing. I smiled and walked out, gladly leaving Ford’s demons behind for now.

“I don’t remember you being an early riser.” I said casually as we headed through to the kitchen.

“Wasn’t. Not till I had a full time job repairing a portal.” Stan explained as I sat at the table. “Woah, there’s something I never thought I’d say.”

“What? Repairing a portal?” I guess, watching where Stan got the cups from.

“No. That I have a full time job.” Stan grinned over his shoulder. I stared, incredulous for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“You’re still such a dork Pines.” I muttered as Stan placed coffee in front of me.

“You’re still small. What’s your point?” Stan asked cheerfully as he started pulling things out of cupboards. I shook my head with a smile.

“No point. Just an observation.” I answered. Stan said nothing but began to hum to himself as he started to mix something together.

I settled back and tried not to think about the last piece of paper. Ford had sounded so scared, in pain... alone... What had he been doing here? What was so important he couldn’t say anything to the people who cared about him? Why was that piece of paper splattered with blood? Why had Ford gotten so paranoid? What had caused it? Where had that blood come from?

Question after question swirled through my head. Trying to ignore them, I took a sip of coffee.

I coughed and spluttered as the sugar hit me.

“Geez, you ok Tiny?” Stan asked over his shoulder.

I stood up and walked over to him with the coffee.

“I think I got yours,” I grimaced, “There’s enough sugar in there to give Willy Wonka diabetes.”

“Drama queen.” Stan grinned as I swapped the cups. I smiled and took a sip of the second cup.

“Mmm, black and bitter with no sweetness whatsoever. Perfect.” I sighed. I leaned against the counter and watched what Stan was doing.

“Hungry?” Stan asked. I nodded, suddenly realising I actually was hungry.

“Yes. Pancakes?” I asked back.

“Of course.” Stan grinned. “They’re what I do.”

“They’re the only thing you can do.” I teased. “Remember the fiasco with the pasta?”

“Oh yeah... did you ever get that pot clean?” Stan asked with a grin. I laughed at the memory of that failed dinner.

“Nope. Just threw it out and bought a new one... That black gunk hardened and was never coming out.” I smiled before heading back to the table. Stan chuckled.

“I’ve gotten better you know. I don’t burn everything now.” He said proudly.

“Good, you can prove it while I’m here.” I jibed. “Especially since I have no idea where anything is yet.”

Stan started to cook the pancakes as I sat happily at the table.

It felt like the first time we lived together. Watching him humming and bustling around making breakfast, I could almost picture us back in my kitchen in Virginia all those years ago. We’d been so happy. Stan would come home exhausted from night shifts but he never let me leave the house without making sure I’d eaten breakfast, even if he had to cook it himself.

I shook myself out of my memories as Stan called my name.

“Carla? You wanna get a coupla plates?” He asked. I stood and headed over.

“Sure. Where are they?” I asked frankly. Stan jerked his head toward a cabinet.

“In there. Can you reach them?” He asked. I snorted.

“I’m not that small you know.” I replied as I stretched to open the cabinet above me. Managing to grab two plates (just), I brought them over to the table.

Stan brought the pan over and slid two pancakes onto the plate closest to me.

“Eat. You need breakfast.” He said matter-of-factly, taking me straight back to my memories of morning in Virginia.

“Yes dear.” I replied with a grin and sat.

“Oh, syrup’s in the fridge.” Stan added, turning back to the stove.

I grabbed the syrup from the fridge and rattled a few drawers until I found the cutlery.

As I returned to the table, I dug into my pancakes eagerly.

Stan joined me a little while later. We didn’t talk, both of us just focused on eating.

The sound of cutlery against plates, the squirt of the syrup bottle, cups being placed on the wooden table and quiet, contented eating filled the kitchen.

I pushed my plate away with a quiet burp.

“Oh, ‘scuse me.” I smiled while finishing my coffee. “Just as good as I remember Stan. Thank you.” I sat back.

“Meh, no problem.” Stan grinned back. “It’s nice to have company.”  
“So ... I’m guessing we should probably talk about things... you know, downstairs?” I said hesitantly. Stan cleared his throat and reached up to fiddle with the arm of his borrowed glasses.

“Or we could just sit here and talk about things that aren’t weird and creepy.” Stan replied with a wry smile. I nodded.

“You know what? I like your idea better.”

“So how’s Ma? I haven’t talked to her in a while.” Stan said, leaning forward.

“How long ago is a while?” I asked. “Cause I know she thinks you’re dead.”

“I spoke to her once after that. She rang Ford to tell him.” Stan frowned at the table. “I don’t know if she could tell... but I haven’t spoken to her since.”

I reached across and touched his hand.

“She’s good. She’s still devastated that she lost her baby boy, but she’s a tough old gal.” I smiled. “She would come around on my day off after she’d seen Shermie to school. I think she liked having me back.”

Stan stayed quiet for a moment.

“What about Pa?” He asked quietly.

“Losing you hit him hard.” I replied softly. Stan looked at me in shock. I rolled my eyes at his reaction.

“You were his son Stan, no matter what you think about him. Ford had stopped talking to him and then suddenly his other son dies. It took him completely by surprise. He was devastated.” I took hold of Stan’s hand. “I truly believe he thought you’d come back. That one day he’d see you again.”

“Joke was on him then wasn’t it?” Stan muttered. I smiled sadly.

“I guess so.”

“So now he only has Shermie,” Stan was speaking to his coffee, rather than me.

“Which one?” I asked, with a slow smile.

“What do you mean?” Stan looked confused. “There’s only little Shermie left.”

“Nope.” I sat back, tracing a finger around the rim of my cup. “There’s Shermie Junior and then there’s Sherman Senior...” I trailed off, letting Stan figure it out while I enjoyed the look of confusion he was currently sporting.

“Sherm came back?” Stan breathed, staring wide eyed at me as understanding dawned. I nodded with a smile.

“Only a few years after we all left.” I watched as Stan started to grin.

“Why didn’t ma tell me?” he asked.

“She’d already told Ford.” I reminded him gently. “When he was at college. I believe it was the only time he went back to see them.”

“So Sherm’s ok then? He didn’t die? He’s back and Shermie has his pa again?” Stan rattled out a string of excited questions.

“Yes Stan.” I smiled.

Stan sat back with a grin.

“What’s Shermie like nowadays?” He asked.

“Well, we call him Matthew now, to avoid confusion. But other than that, he’s a typical 13 year old. He likes running around with his friends and getting into trouble.” I grinned while thinking about the young boy back home. “We’re all agreed he’s just like you. Even Sherman, who hadn’t see you since you were 15.”

“So you met Sherm?” Stan asked.

“Yes. He’s lovely. Gina was quite adamant that I had to meet him.” I added. “I think she was hoping I could be persuaded to fall for her other son.” I joked, only half serious.

Stan glanced at me.

“Would you of?” He asked quietly. I stared at him, taken aback by his question.

“No Stan.” I shook my head. “Never. He looked too much like you. It just brought back memories.”

“I look like him? Still?” Stan asked, gently rolling the mug between his hands.

“More so now than you ever would have before I think. You’ve both been through some rough times.” I said. “Though, I still think you’re more attractive... but I’m biased.” I added with a shy smile.

Stan flushed, cheeks adorably pink as he smiled down at the table. I stayed silent, pleased to still be able to make him blush like that.

“Maybe I’ll get to see him again one day.” Stan eventually said.

“Why don’t you go back? As Ford.” I said slowly. Stan gave a start.

“I couldn’t. Ma, she’d know in an instant... Sherm... well I guess he wouldn’t know... but Ma....” He protested.

I nodded.

“You’re probably right. She has an uncanny knack for being right.” I agreed.

“I was thinking she’d probably notice I only have ten fingers. You did.” Stan pointed out with a smirk. I covered my mouth to stifle my laugh.

“That didn’t even occur to me.” I said. “I hadn’t even thought about it.”

Stan chuckled.

“I think it’s something they might notice.” He raised an eyebrow at me. I rolled my eyes.

“Ok, ok. It was stupid.” I smiled. “I just wish you could see Sherm again.”

“Me too,” Stan sighed, “but it’s just not going to happen.”

“Well, you never know.” I stood and gathered the plates. “I was right about Sherm coming back wasn’t I?”

Stan thought for a moment before he realised.

“Oh, that’s right. We had a bet.” He smiled. “And you won... I’m losing my touch over here.” Stan scowled at the realisation.

“That’s ten bucks you owe me mister.” I grinned, returning to the table.

“You take IOU’s?” Stan asked.

“No dice.” I sat back down. “But I will take a substitute.”

Stan eyed me warily.

“Like what?” He asked. I thought for a moment. What was something useful in this carnival house of surprises?

Got it.

“Like giving me the code to the elevator to the basement.” I leaned back. “It would make me feel a lot better.”

“What do you mean?” Stan asked, frowning slightly.

“Well, this house is pretty unsettling,” I bit my lip, “no offence to Ford of course. But I’d just feel better knowing that I knew how to get into the creepy basement without having to wait for you. And I hate the idea of you being down there where I can’t get to you if something goes wrong.”

Stan nodded slowly.

“Ok, I think we can do that.” He smiled. “I’ll have to write it down though. It’s some sorta symbols. Genius couldn’t use words apparently.”

“Sounds about right.” I smiled.

Stan stood and stretched.

“I should get ready... I don’t know when people will start turning up for tours.” Stan muttered. “Should set up some sorta schedule...”

“Can I help in anyway?” I asked, curious about Stan’s tours.

“You can join one of them if you want. Tell me how I’m doing.” Stan replied with a grin, “Otherwise, it’s kind of a one man show.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Fine. I get it. Stay low, don’t blow your cover, keep myself busy.” I rattled off sarcastically. “Anything else?”

Stan grabbed a pen, leaned over and grabbed my arm. He quickly scribbled a set of four symbols on my arm.

“There. Debt paid.” He grinned as he straightened. “Now you can’t hold it against me.” Stan waved as he headed out of the kitchen.

I stared after him, still getting to grips with who Stan had become.


	3. April 1982 - This Feels Familiar

April 1982

When I opened my eyes, it was still dark. Rolling over, I sat up and shuffled my legs out from under the blankets. Stretching with a yawn, I decided to go downstairs and grab a glass of water.

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, I noticed the light on in the lounge. Entering the room, I glanced at the recliner. No Stan. It didn’t even look like he’d slept there at all tonight.

But I knew where he’d be. It hadn’t taken me long to realise that Stan spent most of his nights trying to figure out that portal in the basement.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I ambled into the old workshop. Slipping down through the concealed passage and stairs, I headed into the elevator.

Traveling downwards, I shivered.

“Probably should have stopped and put pants on.” I muttered, glancing down at my bare legs sticking out from under the baggy sweater.

Leaving the elevator, I made my way to the control room. A loud, familiar snoring greeted me. I smiled slightly as I saw Stan fast asleep and slumped over at the workbench. Peering over his shoulder, I could see Ford’s journal open under his head. The workbench was littered with paper covered in Stan’s untidy scrawl... I picked one up and tried to read it in the dim light. It looked like pretty advanced stuff.

Stan snorted and shifted in his sleep. Dropping the piece of paper, I crouched down and gently shook Stan’s arm.

“Stan? Come on big guy. You can’t sleep down here.” I said softly as Stan jolted awake.

“Eh? What? Carla?” he mumbled, raising a hand to rub along his jaw.

“You fell asleep in the basement. Come on.” I stood and tugged his arm. Stan got to his feet groggily.

“I- I should keep working...” He yawned as we walked back to the elevator.

“Don’t be ridiculous. The portal isn’t going anywhere. Plus, you need a proper night’s sleep.” I said firmly as we emerged at the stairs. Stan allowed me to lead him back up the stairs.

“But I was sleeping Carla...” Stan pointed out as we entered the lounge.

“In a cold, damp sub-basement. You need to sleep in a bed.” I replied.

“Nah, the recliner is fine.” Stan said complacently. I shook my head, frustrated by his lack of self-care.

“I don’t think sleeping on that thing is any good for you Stan.” I chided.

“Where else am I going to sleep?” Stan asked bluntly.

“With me.” I answered, my mouth operating with no control.

A shocked silence spread through the room. Stan stared at me, dumbstruck. My mouth dropped and my eyes widened as my brain caught up to it.

“I meant in your bed! I’ll take the recliner. I’m smaller than you, I’ll fit better.” I babbled desperately, hoping that maybe Stan would just ignore what I’d said.

Stan looked at me, taking in my appearance for the first time that night. I raised a hand to my sleep-mussed hair self-consciously. I was well aware of how I must look... Hair falling out of the bun I’d dragged my hair into before bed, the baggy sweater that only reached mid-thigh, bare legs with bunched up fluffy socks around my ankles... Really should’ve put pants on, I thought.

The silence thickened.

Jolting forward, I made a move toward the recliner.

“Go upstairs Stan. You still have time to get a decent sleep.” I muttered, pulling the blanket from his unresisting hands. As I flicked the blanket out, I heard Stan shift his weight behind me.

His arms reached around me and grabbed the blanket, pulling it from my hands and tossing it back onto the recliner. I froze, butterflies fluttering in my stomach as his arms wrapped around my waist.

“Only if you come with me.” He murmured close to my ear.

“Stan...” I whispered, heart thumping erratically. Stan stepped closer until I could feel him against my back.

“All that time apart, now we’re back together... tell me you don’t want this too.” Stan nuzzled my neck softly. My mind went blank. I did want this. So much. But after so long...

Throwing caution to the wind, I turned and kissed him hard. As my hands slid into his hair, Stan tightened his grip around my waist in response.  Stan had lost none of his ability to make my weak-kneed from a simple kiss. I felt the desire to melt against him, my mind going numb and stars bursting behind my closed eyes.

Lifting me as easily as he had all those years ago, Stan grinned against my mouth. I wrapped my legs around his hips and broke away from our kiss.

“Upstairs now.” I ordered, a smile spreading over my face. Stan gave me a rakish grin and my stomach flipped. Still carrying me, Stan headed up the stairs. I giggled, giddy with excitement.

“Guess you’re not that out of shape.” I smiled. Stan huffed a laugh.

“You still weigh next to nothing.” He replied.

When we stopped on the landing, I could feel how heavily Stan was breathing and realised it had been an effort to carry me despite all his put on bravado. Pecking his lips chastely, I slid out of his arms and took a hold of his hand. Walking backwards, I smiled shyly as we stepped through to the bedroom.

I flicked the light on and Stan stopped before tugging me back to him.

“You know... It’s been a few years... I don’t look the same anymore...” he said nervously. I resisted the urge to laugh and instead, I tilted my head to look him in the eyes.

“So? We’re not eighteen anymore. I don’t care that you’ve changed.” I patted his stomach lightly. “Besides, now there’s more of you too love.” I teased.

Stan stared at me, seemingly astounded by my casualness. I giggled and quickly pulled my sweater off, leaving me standing in front of Stan wearing just a camisole and underwear. Reaching out, I took a hold of Stan’s hand and tugged it. Stan took the hint and kicked the door shut before facing me again. I smiled nervously, catching my lip between my teeth.

Without another word spoken between us, we tumbled back towards the bed, sleep the last thing on our mind.

 

X

 

I woke with a start as I felt a weight slide off of me. Glancing around the room with half-open eyes, I spotted the clothes strewn over the floor. The events of last night came back in a flash. I clutched the blankets to myself, sitting up with a lazy grin. There was a loud snort from beside me. I turned and saw Stan still asleep on his front.

Gritting my teeth, I suppressed the urge to giggle in happiness. You’re not eighteen anymore Carla, I reprimanded myself.

Stan shifted slightly and the early morning light highlighted a strange mark on his right shoulder blade. Leaning down, I gently laid a finger tip against the mark. It was a scar of some sort, pink and shiny, the skin still healing. It seemed to be a symbol... what of, I had no idea.

“What is that?” I breathed, trailing my fingertip along it softly.

“I got it when I fought with Ford.” Stan muttered into the pillow.

I pulled my hand back with a start.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” I said apologetically. Stan responded with a yawn.

“Ah it’s ok. Best wakeup call I’ve had in years.” He said happily.

“So how’d it happened?” I asked, tracing my finger over the scar.

“Ford pushed me back against a hot panel and it burnt through my jacket.”

“God Stan, that’s awful.” I leaned down and planted a kiss against the burn mark. Stan huffed a quiet laugh and rolled over. Shuffling as far over as I could, I watched as Stan pushed himself into a sitting position. Stan smiled softly at me.

“Best way to wake up in the whole world.” He repeated. I smiled, feeling my cheeks flush. Leaning over, Stan dropped a quick kiss on my shoulder.

“I’ve missed this.” He murmured. I draped my arm over his shoulders and gently played with his hair.

“Hmm? Me in particular or just having a warm body next to you?” I asked lightly.

“Both. You. All of it.” Stan said resting his head against me. A soft chuckle escaped him. “Do you remember that time under the boardwalk?”

I burst out laughing.

“Oh god yes! I got that huge bruise from the rocks.” I shook my head. “What were we thinking? It was so uncomfortable!”

Stan laughed louder and sat back up.

“I don’t think we were thinkin’. At least not with our brains.” He winked. Giving his shoulder a playful shove, I smiled happily.

“We were young and dumb.” I said, leaning back against the headboard.

“And in love.” Stan added.

“Yeah,” I glanced over at him, “stupidly and hopelessly in love.”

Stan gave me a small smile. We fell into silence, that particular conversation yet to be had.

Reaching out, I took a stand of his hair and softly tugged.

“So can we talk about the mullet now?” I teased, glad to change the subject.  Stan glanced down at the blanket awkwardly.

“Heh, yeah... I guess it’s pretty bad.” He smiled.

Tucking my knees under me, I got up and climbed onto Stan’s lap. Seeming rather taken back, Stan automatically grabbed my hips. The blankets pooled around my waist, causing me to shiver slightly in the cool air. Stan’s eyes dropped to stare at my naked body before quickly looking at me in the eyes again. Pretending I hadn’t seen his opening ogling of me, I slid my fingers into the back of his hair.

“Pretty bad? Stan. I think I could braid this.” I giggled. Stan rolled his eyes before leaning forward and kissing the tip of my nose. I scrunched my nose up and he laughed.

“Do you want me to cut it for you? I offered, twirling a strand of the brown curls around my finger.

“I guess so. But you have to promise I’m not gonna lose an ear.” Stan grinned as he leaned back.

“Hey!” I protested, swatting his chest lightly. “I know how to cut hair mister.”

“Yeah yeah,” Stan caught my hand in his, “tonight sound ok?” he asked. I smiled and nodded.

“Good.” Stan closed his eyes again. “So, not a fan of the mullet then?” he asked.

“No one is a fan of the mullet Stan.” I replied, leaning forward to tuck my head against his neck. Stan sighed contentedly and wrapped his arms around me.

“I suppose you’re right,” he muttered, “personal care just kinda got away from me over the last few years.”

I smiled and patted his stomach. Stan chuckled.

“Not quite the muscle I used to have.”

“No, but I bet it’s comfier to lie on now.” I said playfully. Stan just laughed and stroked a hand lazily up and down my back. Shuffling further back, I bent over and rested my head on his stomach.

“What the hel-” Stan opened his eyes and stared down at me. I waved a hand impatiently, still buoyed by a childish excitement.

“Shhh, shh. Can you hear that?” I asked with wide eyes. “I think I can hear the ocean!”

“Holy Moses Carla.” Stan groaned. “What is wrong with you?”

“Me?” I sat up, feigning hurt. “How could you say something so mean?” I gasped theatrically and slumped forward, sprawling out over Stan’s chest. “My poor heart... I think I’m dying!” I exclaimed.

Stan laughed as I let my tongue fall out of my mouth.

“Come on... Get off me.” He said jovially, jostling my arm.

“Can’t hear you, I’m dead.” I protested. Stan chuckled and resumed his stroking of my back.

After a few moments, I tucked my arms into his sides and nuzzled into him.

“I’ve missed you so much... and to be this close to you again after how things ended between us...” I trailed off.

“Yeah, I know.” Stan finished. “Feels like we’re young  again.”

“Exactly.” I sighed.

The morning light began to spill through the curtains.

“Guess we should get up.” Stan murmured.

“Or we could not and stay in bed all day. Together.” I suggested before sliding off of Stan reluctantly.

“I can’t, not matter how good that sounds.” Stan got up, stretching briefly. “I gotta get this place in shape.”

Curling up up onto my side, I watched as Stan collected our clothes from the floor.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Remember the gift shop idea?” Stan replied. “I wanna make this place a proper tourist trap. Less of a weird nerd hut ya’know?”

“Can I suggest changing the name then?” I pulled my sweater back on. “Cause the ‘Murder Hut’ just doesn’t scream tourist attraction.”

“You reckon?” Stan paused and looked at me.

“Really Stan. It needs to be something that makes people curious... not vaguely threatened.” I stretched and got out of the bed.

“Got any ideas?” Stan asked.

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” I said as I walked toward the door. Stan followed close behind.

 

Walking into the kitchen, Stan made a beeline for the coffee machine. Smiling to myself, I opened the fridge and examined the shelves. It seemed pretty empty. Bending down, I checked the lower shelves.

“Whatcha looking for hotstuff?” Stan asked from behind me, patting my ass playfully.

“Food.” I replied standing up. “You know, stuff to consume to gain energy from?” I quipped with a snarky smile as I faced Stan. He slid his arms around me and rested his chin on my head.

“Yeah... I guess there’s not a lot left.” He sighed. “I was not prepared for a house guest.”  
I shrugged and placed my arms around him.

“Wanna go to that diner in town then?” I asked as Stan closed the fridge door.

“I don’t have a lot of money...” Stan said in an embarrassed voice. I leaned back and placed a hand on his cheek.

“How have you been surviving Stan?” I asked, concerned.

“You want the truth?” Stan tried to laugh it off.

My heart sank a little. Things really had gotten bad for him I realised. Stan’s face got serious when he saw I was still waiting for an answer.

“Look, there’s been times where I’ve gone without a meal or two.” Stan said quietly. “Or three... or maybe a couple of days...”

“Stan...” I murmured. “I’ll pay for breakfast.”

Stan blinked at me.

“I can’t let you do that...” He protested weakly. I moved my hand over his mouth. My stubborn Stanley, I thought. Always too proud to accept help. Well, he didn’t have a choice now. I could be just as stubborn as him.

“I’m not going to take no for an answer.” I said firmly. “Let’s get dressed and then we can go eat.”

Stan tilted my chin back with his hand and gave me a sweet smile.

“You’re the best McCorkle.” He said softly.

I pecked him on the lips and slid out of his arms.

“Tell me something I don’t know Pines.” I winked as I walked out of the kitchen. “Oh and don’t think I didn’t hear that hotstuff remark. You’ll pay for that later.” I said, popping my head back around the door frame. Stanley laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Figured it might be a little soon for that.” He admitted gruffly. I grinned.

“Give it another couple of nights. Then, if you can remember your own name... we’ll talk nicknames.” I winked suggestively and ran for the stairs.

A loud guffaw of laughter echoed from the kitchen and the sound of pounding feet followed as Stan chased me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how playful this ended up :) It's going to be a main part of this story, the relaxed and comfortable relationship between Stan and Carla. I just love the idea of these two being the absolutely perfect match for each other and so accepting of each other no matter what :)


	4. April 1982 - Our Past, Present and Future

April 1982 – Confession Time

 

Placing the bag of groceries down on the counter, I pushed my hair back from my face with a sigh.

“Ya know ya didn’t have to do this right?” Stan grumbled as he entered the kitchen with another two bags. “I’m not a charity case ya know.”

“I know.” I started pulling food from the bag. “But I wanted too. Plus I’ve been thinking about a new name for your little business venture here.” I chattered happily as I started placing food in the fridge.

“Oh yeah?” Stan commented as he began to put food away as well.

“I don’t have anything solid yet, but anything has to be better than the Murder Hut.” I jibed as I walked back to the counter.

“Oi.” Stan swatted cheekily at my ass and I stuck my tongue out at him.

“It’s a terrible name for a business Stan.” I replied with a grin. “I also figured I could take a look at the mortgage for this place and try to give you an idea of what you’ll need to pay off consistently.” I continued as Stan stopped and stared at me. Stan had a soft smile on his face, regarding me with warmth. I could feel my own smile surfacing as I gazed back at him, taking in his glasses and newly cut hair... He was starting to look more like Ford than ever.

“What? I want to help you as much as I can while I’m here.” I said, turning back to the bags.

“While ya here...” Stan echoed in a low tone. I looked back at Stan, my smile gone at the sound of his voice. Stan was looking out the window, his own smile gone and visibly upset.

“I told you I could only stay a week Stan. I have a job, an apartment, commitments... I can’t just disappear.” I said slowly, hoping that Stan would at least try to understand.

“Yeah, I guess...” Stan said gruffly, still looking out the window.

“Besides, if I stay here, I might end up revealing the whole secret identity thing. You know what I’m like for blurting stuff out.” I tried to joke weakly. Stan didn’t even acknowledge my words.

“I could always visit you, say once a month.” I tried, starting to wish I’d never even opened my mouth in the first place.

“Great.” Stan replied monotonously. “Something to look forward too.”

“Please Stan, I don’t want to lose you again. I’m trying here.” I said softly, tears pricking the back of my eyes. Stan sighed and finally looked at me. I could see the glassiness in his eyes.

“I knew ya’d only be here a short while.” He said sadly. “I just hoped after a... ah, forget it.” Stan cut himself off. “I’m going downstairs.” He walked out of the kitchen without any more of an explanation.

I stayed where I was, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the paper bag, slowly wearing it thinner. My heart felt like a rock inside my chest. Everything had been fine this morning. What just happened?

 

X

 

A few hours later, I was sitting at the table in the kitchen absently scribbling ideas on a notepad.

Stan still hadn’t come back upstairs and I really didn’t want to go down and join him. I didn’t want to risk ruining things any further.

Sighing, I placed my pen down and walked over to the sink to get a drink of water. I was really starting to think that I shouldn’t have come to Gravity Falls at all, no matter what I had promised Gina. This whole complicated mess had sucked me in and I was going to make it so much worse if I wasn’t careful. Turning the tap off, I leaned back against the sink. If I somehow figured out a way to stay, I was going to have be an accomplice in Stan’s life. Helping him figure out how the hell to restart that thing downstairs and having to pretend that he was Stanford every day... On the other hand, if I left after Stan had opened up and told me everything about Ford’s disappearance and what lurked under the house... it’d be like he had lost me too. It would break him. And how could I go back to Glass Shard Beach and pretend that Stan was still dead after this? And how could I not tell Gina that it was Ford who’d gone missing but hey, good news! The son you thought had died is still alive and pretending to be his missing, presumed dead brother?

I could feel a headache starting just trying to process all of that information. Suppressing a groan, I lifted the glass to my lips. This was so much more complicated than I wanted to handle right now.

I glanced out of the window as I took a sip of the water.

The trash can wobbled violently.

I froze, waiting to see if it would move again. After only a few moments, it rocked and almost tipped.

Placing my glass down slowly, I tossed up the options. It was probably just a raccoon or a stray cat. The poor creature must have gotten trapped in there. The trash can gave another wobble as I considered what to do next.

I could go and get Stan (and risk his grumpiness, followed by extensive teasing after he’d sorted it), or I could grab the nearby broom and go sort that trash eater out myself.

After a few moments thought, I grabbed the broom and headed toward the back door. I still didn’t want to have to go downstairs and face Stan.

Chicken, my brain mocked me.

Gritting my teeth and tightening my grip on the broom, I walked out onto the porch.

Walking round to the trash can, I jumped a little as it wobbled violently again.

“Ok mister trash eater, prepare to be heartily threatened by a broom.” I muttered, reaching for the lid. “Or at least be screamed at until you run away.”

Before I could grab the lid, it shifted to the side and I was suddenly looking at a tiny bearded man holding a discarded tin triumphantly. He froze the second he spotted me.

“Shemebulock? Senior?” He said, offering me the tin can.

“Arghhh!” I yelled, swinging the broom in shocked self-defence. By sheer luck, it managed to hit the tiny man in the face, knocking him to the ground, the lid of the trash can falling with a loud clang.

He hissed at me and went to scamper away. I chased him with the broom, smacking him once more as he dove into the surrounding trees.

I stared after him in shock, still holding the broom above my head. As I began to lower the broom, I heard Stan calling from the back porch.

“Carla! I heard someone yell! What happened?”

“I’m round here Stan.” I called back, still staring at the trees.

Stan walked round and froze when he saw me wielding the broom.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, edging forward. Reality finally caught up to me.

“I-I thought there was a raccoo- or a cat- but it was a tiny- in the, in the trash can, a tiny man... with a beard!” I babbled. “He had a tin!” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Again? I swear, those guys are a real pest.”

I stared at him.

“Wait! I just told you there was a tiny bearded man in your trash and you knew?!” I asked, incredulous. Stan shrugged.

“Things get weird around here. I can’t really explain it.” He offered. I sagged a little, energy suddenly draining from me.

“This is crazy. I was perfectly happy living a normal life... then I get here and the world turns upside down!” I gestured wildly, narrowly missing Stan with the broom bristles.

“So you’ll be glad to leave then.” Stan muttered. I jolted, like someone had smacked me in the face with the broom. Stan was always good at sulking.

“Not fair Stan.” I said.

“That wasn’t a no.” He replied sullenly.

I felt like screaming. Instead, I smacked Stan lightly with the broom.

“Ok, listen up mister. Because I’ve just hit what I can only describe as a gnome in the face, and quite frankly, I’m really out of my depth here... But I’m not leaving because of all this, this weird stuff. I’m not leaving because you’re poor, and I’m not leaving because I’m freaked out by this place.” I threw the broom to the ground. “I’m leaving because I’m a goddamn adult! I can’t just disappear.” I cried loudly as I grabbed the front of Stan’s shirt.

“And I’m not leaving because I don’t love you Stan Pines. The last few days have been a whirlwind of emotions, but the one thing I’m sure of is that if you’re still alive then my place is by your side!” I ended my rant with a hard kiss on Stan’s lips.

Stan hesitated in shock before kissing me back.

A loud crash separated us. The trash can had been knocked over, another gnome rooting around in it.

“Oh for crying out loud.” Stan muttered before grabbing the broom and swatting at the gnome. “Go on! Get outta there!” He yelled as the gnome scampered off.

I started to giggle, shaking uncontrollably. Stan turned back to me, watching in concern as I doubled over holding my sides.

“This is the craziest day of my life.” I gasped. Stan gave me a grin.

“It takes some getting use too.” He admitted.

“You don’t say?” I smiled, wiping the tears from my eyes. We stood looking at each other for a while.

“Look I’m sorry I-”

“Sorry bout-”

We both tried to apologise at the same time before laughing again. I reached out and took hold of Stan’s hand.

“Come on. I gotta show you something” I said softly, tugging him back towards the house.

 

X

 

Stan sat in the recliner and looked at me expectantly.

“Right. Stay.” I said, making quick, nervous gestures. Stan smirked but wriggled further into the chair, indicating he wouldn’t move.

“I’ll be right back.” I assured before backing out of the front room and dashing up the stairs. Grabbing my bag from the bedroom, I hurried downstairs and stopped in front of Stan.

“I’ve been carrying this round with me for years...” I muttered as I searched through my bag.

“You wanted to show me an old bag ya have?” Stan quipped with a raised eyebrow. I paused and stuck my tongue out at him.

“No.” My fingers finally found what I was looking for. “Aha! There it is!”

Triumphantly drawing an aged and battered envelope out, I dropped my bag and moved toward Stan.

“Here. I want you to read this... I wrote it for you years ago.” I tried to stop my hands from shaking as I tentatively held out the envelope.

Stan gave me a slightly stunned look before gently taking the envelope from me.

My heart was hammering loudly in my chest as I watched Stan take out the faded paper and photo.

I couldn’t watch him read this.

“I’ll leave you to, to...” I muttered, moving toward the door, “Find me after you’ve read it.”

Almost tripping over the small stairs in my haste to get away, I dove out the back door and threw myself down to sit on the porch stairs.

“Well. That’s done it.” I whispered to myself. “He’s gonna read it and we’ll finally have to talk about what happened, no excuses.”  
I dropped my head to my knees with a groan.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as I waited.

 

The door behind me creaked as Stan came outside. He sat down heavily next to me, still holding the photo and letter.

“So...” Stan sighed.

“Yeah.” I stared down at the grass, reluctant to be the one to start the conversation. Stan stretched his legs out in the silence.

“Ya’ve really been carrying this round since ’72?” He eventually asked. I nodded, still focused on the ground.

“Why?” Stan asked.

“So I could give it to you if I ever saw you again. I think I wrote that in there somewhere.” I said, sitting back up and glancing at Stan.

“No. I get that, I read that... but after I ‘died’... why didn’t ya just get rid of it?” Stan tapped the edge of the paper absently while he waited for me to answer.

“I just couldn’t bring myself to let it go. I tried... but I just couldn’t.” I admitted with a sigh. “Good thing I didn’t really.”

Stan chuckled and we fell silent again.

Finally deciding to ask what had been torturing me for years, I took a deep breath and twisted to look at Stan.

“So? Can you forgive me?” I asked, voice trembling. “For everything that happened?”

The look Stan gave me was unreadable and I felt my heart lurch painfully. What if he didn’t forgive me?

Suddenly, I couldn’t stop myself from babbling.

“Look, I know I can’t go back and change things, or even take back what I said; but if it’s any consolation, I went through hell when the hypnotism wore off. I mean, one day I just wake up with all these memories of what I said and did.” My voice cracked and I could feel tears trying to escape my eyes. “Oh god, the things I said! What I did... kicking you out like that... I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me... but I’m so sorry Stan! So sorry!” My tears were falling freely now and I made no attempt to stifle them.

I briefly caught sight of the letter and photo fluttering to the ground before I was suddenly surrounded by Stan.

Stan was making soft comforting sounds as his hands cautiously stroked my back. I only cried harder at the sweet touches.

“Please, please forgive me.” I sobbed, burying my head into his chest. “Everything I said... that I did... I swear I never meant it. I would never!”

“Carla, god, of course I forgive ya.” Stan’s voice was gruff and heavy with emotion as he pressed his cheek against my hair. “Come here ya mess.”

Stan pulled me closer, lifting me onto his lap. Twisting my head into his shoulder, I tried to get control of my tears.

“Hey, hey. Carla, baby. Look at me.” Stan coaxed, gently brushing his fingers through my hair. I tentatively raised my eyes to his and was taken aback by the warmth in them still.

“It’s alright ya know? You don’t have anything to be sorry about. It was that jerk Thistle’s fault.” Stan reassured.

“B-but, what I said... It was so awful.” I sniffed pathetically.

Stan sighed lightly.

“I won’t lie to ya. Some of it hurt, a lot... and I was pretty heartbroken for a while. But I always knew you wouldn’t say those sorts of things if ya weren’t being made to by Thistle. I never blamed you for any it. Shoulda dumped that damn idiot in the ravine next to his van though.” Stan grumbled.

Despite everything, I giggled. Stan smiled and held me tightly.

“Ya know, I never stopped thinking about ya.” Stan admitted shyly. “Even when I made the horrible decision to get married. And let me tell you, Marilyn had nothing on you McCorkle. You were the first girl I ever loved... ya set the bar pretty high.”

My heart fluttered hopefully and I gulped as I steeled myself to ask my next question.

“Do, do you think you could love me again?” I whispered, hardly daring to breathe.

Stan gave an amused huff.

“Don’t think I ever truly stopped loving you Tiny.” He said quietly with a smile. A smile that disappeared when I flung my arms around him suddenly, almost knocking us back onto the porch.

As Stan steadied us with a chuckle, I nuzzled closer to him as I tried to stop more tears falling.

“You mean it?” I asked, wanting to make sure I hadn’t imagined it.

“I mean it.” Stan replied, his arms tightening around me.

We stayed entwined like that for a few minutes. I was grinning against Stan, feeling the rise and fall of his breath.

He still loved me! He actually forgave me! I felt like whatever had been hanging over us had just vanished... things could only get better now.

“Do ya really still have to leave?” Stan asked, popping my thoughts sharply. I sighed and absently tugged his shirt front as I leaned back.

“Unfortunately...” I pulled a face. “But I’ve been thinking, what if I came back. Permanently?”

Stan’s brow creased in confusion.

“What?”

I snorted with a smile.

“What if I moved out here? For good?” I repeated. Stan’s eyes widened and a grin spread over his face.

“Ya’d move out here... to the middle of nowhere... and stay with me this time?” He asked slowly, grin still fixed in place.

“If you’ll have me.” I smiled.

“Are you kidding?! Yes!” Stan was ecstatic.

“I’ll still have to leave this weekend though.” I said reminded him. “I have to go back and quit my job, give up my apartment... explain this to your mother, she’ll want to know why I’m suddenly moving here...” I trailed off, suddenly realising how much I’d have to do.

“Oh, yeah, Ma.” Stan said. “What are you gonna tell her?”

“Reckon we should tell her the truth?” I asked.

“How do ya even start to explain this? We can’t tell her.” Stan gave me a bemused look.

“Well, I’m going to have to tell her something. So start thinking mister.” I poked Stan good-naturedly.

Stan frowned slightly, thinking, before opening his mouth with an idea ready to tumble out. I raised my finger quickly.

“If your idea involves faking my death this time, I swear I will let those gnomes into the house.” I threatened with a faint smile.

Stan scowled.

“Not all my ideas involve faking deaths ya know?” He said reproachfully.

“Oh yeah?” I challenged, “What was your idea then?”

Stan opened and closed his mouth a few times before I burst out laughing. Stan soon joined in, admitting defeat.

“Ok, ok. So I only have one type of idea.” He chuckled. I shook my head, still smiling.

“We don’t have to figure it all out right now. I think it can wait till tomorrow.”

Stan nodded, spotting the letter and photo still lying on the ground. He reached down and picked them up.

“Thanks for this,” Stan smiled, placing them on my lap, “it means a lot.”

I leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Stan’s cheek.

“I’m just glad you finally got to read it.” I murmured, settling back against him.

Stan seemed lost in thought, clearly mulling something over. I waited, content to wait forever for the man sitting with me.

“Ya really sure you wanna ditch everything just to be out here with me? I don’t hava lot to offer ya know?” Stan said quietly.

Hearing the uncertainty in his voice, I reached up and gently ran my hands through his hair comfortingly.

“You’re enough for me Stan. So yes. I really want to do this.” I paused, tilting my head back to catch his eye. “I know it’s pretty sudden, but I can’t just walk away after knowing what’s going on in this house. I want to help you. I want to be with you.”

Stan smiled happily and rested his head against mine as I continued to stroke his hair.

I realised how crazy this plan was, and I’d spent the last few hours trying to reason it out on paper.

But after finally giving Stan that letter and knowing now that he still loved me... My mind was made up.

Stan needed me and this time I wasn’t leaving him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, look! It's that letter again! 
> 
> Also couldn't resist the chance to get a Shemebulock Sr. joke in there.  
> Fair warning, there will probably be more gnomes and inside jokes from the series as this story progresses :)


	5. December 1982 - Under the Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had this idea over Christmas last year and REALLY wanted to post it at the time but I forced myself to wait so I wouldn't spoil the start of this sequel *sigh*  
> So enjoy my chocolate and Christmas fueled fluff piece :)

December 1982 – First Christmas

 

I eyed our ‘tree’ critically.

“Stan. This is a branch.” I sighed.

“No one’s gonna notice. Especially after we decorate it.” Stan dismissed.

Shaking my head, I glanced over at him. Stan was sitting on the floor, cross legged and cutting something out of white paper. His face was the picture of concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out as his eyes followed the scissors carefully. I smiled and reached for the bag by my feet.

We’d at least managed to buy some lights, tinsel and decorations. God knows the money was going to be tight after the new year with all the plans for the house, but Stan was determined to celebrate Christmas this year. And honestly, so was I. Especially with him.

Hell, we didn’t even have to have this branch in a pot and I’d still be happy to celebrate Christmas with him.

I started unwinding Christmas lights and tried to decided the best way to approach our branch.

Starting at the top, I began to drape the lights as evenly as I could. As I approached the bottom, I realised I couldn’t hear the distant whisper of the scissors on paper.

I glanced across at Stan who was watching me with a small smile.

“What are you looking at mister?” I shot at him.

“I’ve never decorated a Christmas tree before.” Stan admitted. “So I’m glad you seem to know what to do.”  
Realization hit me.

“I forgot, you’re Jewish.” I straightened and reached back for the bag before stopping. “Wait, do you want to decorate for Hanukkah instead?”

“But I was doing so well with Christmas decorations.” Stan protested, slowly opening the paper in his hand to reveal the simple paper snowflake he’d been working on. I pulled the tinsel out with a smile.

“Alright then. Wanna come learn the art of tinsel tossing?” I offered.

“Tinsel tossing? That doesn’t sound very Christmassy.” Stan wrinkled his nose as he walked over. I rolled my eyes.

“And what would you know about Christmas huh? Besides, it has the word tinsel in it.” I handed him a length of tinsel. “So it’s very Christmassy.”

I slipped my arms around Stan and gently cupped his elbows.

“Now, what you’ve gotta do is just toss it at the tree.” I instructed.

“What?” Stan glanced down at me. “That’s not how you decorate a tree, is it?”  
“Always worked for me.” I grinned and jostled his arms. “Go on. Just do it.”

Stan made a noise of uncertainty in his throat and gently tossed the tinsel at the tree. It caught on the lower branches and most of it trailed on the floor.

I doubled over laughing, Stan rounding on me with a hurt look.

“You lied!” He accused. I struggled to get my breath back.

“N-no! You’re just, phfft, bad at this!” I gasped out, slowly straightening back up. Stan scowled and gestured for me to do it. I grinned and grabbed the next length of tinsel.

“Watch and learn rookie.” I teased, facing the tree.

With well-practiced tinsel tossing skills, I flung the tinsel with a quick flick of the wrist. The tinsel caught on the tree, even managing to curl around the side slightly.

“Hah! Take that.” I crowed, Stan staring in disbelief.

“Not fair.” He said as I grabbed another piece of tinsel and moved around the tree, looking for the next spot to hit.

“Well, try again.” I smiled. Stan picked another piece of tinsel and took aim. I spluttered as it hit me.

“Hey! The tree you dork!” I complained. “You’re meant to decorate the tree! You are bad at Christmas!”

Stan roared with laughter and I threw my piece of tinsel at him in retaliation.

“Together then?” Stan offered, eyes still twinkling as I picked up the tinsel he’d thrown at me.

“Together.” I couldn’t help but agree. Stan seemed so happy, almost child-like with the anticipation of a first Christmas.

After a few minutes, we had managed to toss all of our tinsel on the tree. Stan eyed it critically.

“It still doesn’t seem right,” He said, “Half of it isn’t even hanging on the tree.”

That’s because we haven’t moved on to the second part.” I shook my head with an exaggerated sigh. “Now we have to tuck it in. Tinsel tossing is just to get it on the tree. Now we arrange it.”

I knelt down and began to thread Stan’s first failed attempt along the bottom branches, neatly weaving it in between the twigs and lights. Stan hunched down and watched before attempting the same thing higher up the tree.

I quickly tucked the remaining tinsel in as Stan finished.

“See? Now it’s ready for decorations.” I smiled. Stan had a warm smile on his face looking at the tree.

“Stan?” I touched his arm and held out a bright metallic red bauble.

“Where do I put it?” Stan asked, taking the ornament.

“Anywhere you want... on the tree!” I stressed, thinking about the tinsel he’d attacked me with. Stan chuckled and gently hooked the bauble onto the tree. I picked the bag up and jiggled it. There was a loud plastic clicking from inside as the various baubles rattled together. Stan grinned.

Once all the baubles were on, I leaned against Stan happily. He’d been right. Once it was decorated, it really did look like a Christmas tree. No one would be able to say otherwise.

“So what do you think?” I asked.

“I think it’s beautiful.” Stan replied.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I said, dropping to the floor and grabbing the plug for the Christmas lights. Crawling over to the wall socket, I jammed the plug in and hit the switch.

The tree lit up softly with primary colours that twinkled merrily.

“Wow.” Stan was still grinning.

As I got to my feet, I noticed something was missing.

“Oh no! We forgot to get a tree topper.” I pointed. “There should be a star or an angel at the top.” I pouted, not quite believing I’d forgotten something so important.

“Wait! I’ve got it! Stay here!” Stan suddenly leapt to attention and raced out of the room. I heard him thunder up the stairs and wondered where on earth he was going.

There weren’t any Christmas decorations in this house except the ones we’d bought last week.

After a few minutes, I sighed and walked over to the stairs.

“Stan! Did you get lost up there?” I yelled.

“Just a few more minutes! Argh!”

There was the sound of boxes falling over and Stan re-emerged at the top of the stairs clutching something in his hand triumphantly.

“We may need to avoid the attic for a while.” He panted, coming back down. “At least until we feel like cleaning that mess up.”

I raised an eyebrow at him and Stan offered the item in his hands in a cute apologetic gesture.

It was a Star of David.

“Where was this?” I asked as Stan walked into the front room.

“I remembered it had been in a pile of Ford’s stuff when we cleared that lounge room.” Stan explained. “I figure we might as well decorate for Hanukkah too right?” He glanced at the tree and down at the star.

“How do we attach it?” He asked, turning to look at me. I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment, thinking.

“Do we have string anywhere?” I asked. Stan thought for a moment and rushed into the old workshop. He returned with a spool of string.

“Dunno what it was used for, but this should work right?” He handed the string over as I nodded.

“Sure. Scissors?” I held my hand out. Stan scooped the scissors up and I snipped a decent length of string.

“Can you reach?” Stan asked, a smile sneaking onto his face as I reached up.

“Shut up and lift me.” I sighed after realising I couldn’t.

Stan chuckled and gently lifted me, his hands gripping my waist tightly. Working quickly, I secured the Star of David to the top of our glowing tree.

“You know, I’m not sure if that counts as blasphemy or not.” I said as Stan lowered me.

“Against who though?” Stan asked with a grin. I smacked his chest with a groan.

“If we get struck by lightning, I’m going to kill you.” I joked as we stood back and admired our handiwork.

“It’ll be worth it.” Stan said as he slid an arm around my waist and pulled me close. “Cause this? This is beautiful.”

I looked up at him, a smile on my face. Stan was lit by the garish clash of colours, his own smile full of pure happiness. I hadn’t seen him this happy since I told him I was moving in.

Stan eventually realised I was staring and looked down at me, his smile dropping into a light frown.

“What? I got something on ma face or what?”

“Yeah. Right here.” I answered before stretching up and pecking his cheek softly.

Stan flushed and I laughed.

“You’re such a sap Carla.” Stan said gruffly.

“And you’re a Pine tree. We fit together so well.” I smiled. Stan rolled his eyes with a groan.

“Geez babe, how long ya been working on that?” He complained. I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Shut up. You love it.” I retorted before slipping out of his grip.

Not waiting for his reply, I wandered into the kitchen and began to fill the kettle.

“Have I told ya how much I love you?” Stan said as he followed me.

“Not today.” I replied, setting the kettle on the stove.

“Well, I love you.” Stan stated simply.

Despite having heard it so much over the last 8 months, I still felt a flutter in my stomach at Stan’s words. I was never going to get sick of hearing that.

“I love you too Stanley.” I said quietly. Stan chuckled at my use of his full name.

“You only get one of them a year.” He reminded playfully.

“Consider it a Christmas present.” I turn the face him. “Christmas is a time to be with the ones you love and to tell them how you feel. So I’m not going to pretend you’re Ford. You’re my Stanley,”

Stan raised a finger in playful reprimand and I pulled a face.

“You’re my STANLEY,” I repeated with force, “and that’s not gonna change.”

Stan sat at the table, an odd smile playing around his mouth.

“Thanks.” He eventually said. I stared in shock. That was not the response I was expecting. Stan chuckled at my face.

“I mean it. It’s nice to know Stanley Pines won’t be forgotten. That someone still remembers him fondly.” He said. I stayed silent, unable to come up with a reply.

Behind me, the kettle began to whistle.

“You gonna move that babe?” Stan asked. I jolted out of my silence and wheeled round, plucking the kettle off the stove.

Placing it down on the bench, I walked over to Stan and  leaned on the table. Bringing my face close to his, I matched his staring.

“I will always remember Stanley Pines as a stubborn pain in my ass who never made anything easier for himself, tried too hard to prove he was better than everyone who called him stupid, and who devoted himself to those he loved. And not much has changed, despite his death.” I acknowledged our current situation. “And we spend far too much time discussing this.”

Stan closed his eyes with a smile and gently butted his head against mine.

“I love you Carla.”

“You’ve said that already.” I teased, laying a sweet kiss on his nose. “Let’s get back to the Christmas-Hanukkah spirit okay?”

“Sure thing.” Stan leaned back with a smile. “What comes after decorating the tree?”

“Hot chocolate and sappy Christmas films.” I said as I turned back to the still steaming kettle. “You wanna grab that cocoa mix I got?”

“When did you sneak that in?” Stan commented as he brought it down from the cupboard.

“When you were trying to see how many candy canes you could fit up your sleeve without anyone noticing.” I grinned at Stan’s shocked yelp as he realised his shoplifting had been caught.

“You, ya weren’t meant to see that...” Stan admitted sheepishly. I dismissed his words, spooning the cocoa into the two mugs Stan handed me.

“Oh please. I know you better than that. I just expect it now. I slipped a couple of extra bucks in as I paid anyway. They won’t even know.”

“That kinda defeats the purpose of stealing ya know.” Stan said as he watched me stir the hot chocolate.

“You didn’t even have to steal them. We could’ve afforded them.” I replied, tapping the spoon against the mugs edge. “Milk?”

“It’s a bad habit. Can’t help myself.” Stan excused as he grabbed the milk from the fridge. I shrugged.

“Never said I hated it. I get why you do it. I might not like it, but I don’t really care... as long as you’re not stealing from those who need it.”

“Like robbing the rich to give to the needy?” Stan joked. I laughed.

“Yes. You’re allowed to be Robin Hood. But only on the holidays.” I turned back to the table with the mugs in hand. “Or if we’re really desperate.”

“That’s a deal I can get behind.” Stan grinned as we sat together.

Taking a sip of the warm, chocolately liquid, I sighed contentedly.

“So what other Christmas traditions do I need to learn?” Stan asked.

I tilted my head as I thought.

“Hmm. Well, we’ve decorated the tree, we’re drinking hot chocolate... we don’t really have a fireplace to hang a stocking over,”

“What about the furnace upstairs?” Stan interrupted. I smiled.

“Oh yeah, but maybe we won’t lay flammable stocking on the hot furnace. Maybe over the end of the bed instead.” I suggested. Stan nodded.

“Good idea.”

“Then I suppose we can move straight to the sappy Christmas films.” I  finished ticking off traditions on my fingers.

“What about mistletoe?” Stan asked with a rakish grin.

“We don’t have mistletoe.” I pointed out. “So there’s no way to achieve that one.”

“Wanna bet Tiny?” Stan asked cockily before dashing from the room.

I stared after him. There was no way he’d gotten mistletoe. There was none growing nearby. I doubted if it even grew in Gravity Falls. We probably had something much weirder, perhaps even sentient.

“Tah dah!” Stan crowed in triumph as he crashed back through the door. I leaned back and smiled as he brandished a cut out piece of paper.

Stan had scrawled a rough drawing of a sprig of mistletoe, he must’ve cut it out earlier when I was preoccupied by the tree.

“Whaddya say Tiny? Care to eat ya words?” Stan arched an eyebrow cockily, holding his makeshift mistletoe above his head.

“Or we could move onto any Hanukkah traditions that you could teach me?” I said defiantly with a smile.

Stan pouted childishly.

“Come on babe. This is a tradition.” He pleaded, eyes large and hopeful.

I made a show of sighing and getting to my feet.

“You know mistletoe is a parasitic plant right? It sucks the life out of the tree it grows on.” I said, enjoying torturing Stan slightly.

“You’re a real downer.” Stan scowled as I stood in front of him. “I’d almost think ya didn’t want to kiss me.”

“Like that would ever happen.” I scoffed, glancing up at the paper mistletoe. “Just don’t need a parasitic plant to give me an excuse.”

Stan smiled as I returned my gaze to him.

“Merry Christmas Stanley.” I whispered, reaching up to loop my arms around his neck.

“Merry Christmas Carla.” Stan murmured, leaning down to catch my lips with his.

As we stood there under the false mistletoe, I couldn’t help but feel content.

This first Christmas held within it the promise of many more to come, each just as imperfectly perfect.


	6. March 1983 - One Question... What?

March 1983

 

“Ok. I think that’s the last of them.” I said, pushing the box away as I sat back on my heels. Stan and I had finally finished clearing out the old workshop.

“Got it.” Stan leaned over and pulled it toward him. Stretching, I watched as Stan ripped tape off the roll and sealed the box shut.

Stan scrawled a giant ‘F’ on the top of the sealed box and recapped the marker with a sigh.

I got it.

There was an unspoken rule in this house. Never mention Ford in the past tense.

But moving all his notes, experiments, tools and books into storage felt like we were doing just that. He wasn’t here, no trace of him left, just a memory, or a ghost, in the house he had built.

This last box was a bittersweet victory.

While it was satisfying to see the room empty and ready for new beginnings, it had felt like we were removing Ford from our lives with every box that was sealed and stored away.

Crawling over to Stan, I tucked my arm through his as I leaned against him.

“This one’s going to the attic right?” I asked, trying to keep him distracted.

“Yeah. It’s just notes right?” Stan replied, fiddling with the marker absently.

“Pretty much. I didn’t see anything we needed... just his random equations and half formed theories.” I smiled. “Sometimes in the same sentence. Oh, and some weird symbols. Like the sort he used for the code in the basement.”

Stan chuckled sadly.

“He never could get the hang of thinking in a straight line. Or in English. Remember all the codes he used to write in?”

“Yes. It drove me mad in algebra class.” I smiled, “As if advanced equations wasn’t hard enough.”

“Sounds just like him. I kinda miss seeing his weird scribbles on all my books.” Stan said, his voice wavering on the edge of melancholy again.

I nudged the box with my foot to bring Stan back to the here and now.

“You got the energy to take this upstairs?” I asked. Stan shook his head slightly before pulling a face at me.

“Meh. Only if it’s the last one. Gonna throw my back out if I’m not careful.” Stan grumbled. I rolled my eyes.

“Geez, you’re not an old man yet Stan.” I retorted. Stan huffed with a smile and gently untangled himself from me before lifting the box.

“You coming?” Stan called as he left the room.

“Yeah, yeah. Right behind you.” I replied, taking one last look at the empty work shop before turning on my heel to follow Stan.

“I was thinkin...” Stan huffed as we headed up the stairs.

“Dangerous concept.” I smiled at his back.

“Har har. I’m serious.” Stan replied. “I was thinkin’ about an attraction.”

“Oh yeah?” I quirked an eyebrow at Stan’s back.

“Yeah. Hang on.” Stan grunted a little as he hoisted the last box onto the shelves. I waited patiently, wandering over to the triangular window. Running a hand along the window frame, I wondered (not for the first time) why Ford had chosen such oddly shaped windows. But I had to admit they added charm to the house. Not to mention how beautifully they framed the view. Glancing out the window, I stared at the surrounding forest.

Even after living in Gravity Falls for 11 months, I still couldn’t get over the beauty of this town. The giant redwoods just seemed to hide the rest of the world away in a comforting embrace. I could understand why Ford had chosen this place for his work, it was so secluded and peaceful.

Except for when we were attacked by gnomes. But they seemed to have gotten the message that we were prepared to swat them to death with our broom, which made them less of a threat nowadays.

So all we really had to watch out for was other strange and potentially dangerous creatures, which happened more often than I cared for.

A pair of strong arms gently encircled my waist from behind.

“Ya look miles away babe.” Stan murmured.

“Just admiring the view.” I answered, leaning back into his embrace.

“Funny. I was doing the same thing.” Stan quipped, squeezing me slightly. I rolled my eyes at his blatant flirting and continued to look out at the trees.

“Hardy har.” I grinned.

Stan chuckled and tucked his chin against my shoulder. For a while, we stood quietly. I could feel the gentle rise and fall of Stan’s breathing against my back, and I found my own breathing changing to follow his as I watched the wind brush through the tops of the trees.

“So what did you have in mind for an attraction?” I asked in the stillness, remembering Stan’s comment as we walked up the stairs. Stan mumbled nonsensically into my shoulder.

“Oh, that good of an idea huh?” I teased. Stan bit my shoulder lightly in retaliation and I laughed before swatting his head lightly.  
“Seriously?” I sighed in fond exasperation. “You’re such a child.”

Stan let go of my shoulder and spun me round.

“But ya love me.” He said with a lazy grin. I matched his grin before standing on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his nose.

“Yeah I do.” I replied sweetly. Stan flushed happily.

“Now what was this about an attraction?” I asked again. Stan grinned.

“I already set it up. Come on.” Stan took hold of my hand and pulled me back toward the stairs.

“So it’s less of an idea and more of an actual piece huh?” I asked as we headed down.

“Yeah. You’re gonna love it!” Stan was practically vibrating with excitement as he hurried me along to the long corridor where we’d decided to set up the exhibits and attractions we wanted to show to tourists.

“Ok. Close ya eyes.” Stan ordered as we came to a standstill by the door.

“Is that really necessary?” I asked with a coy smile. Stan practically pouted and I sighed as I closed my eyes.  “You’re lucky I trust you Pines.”

“Probably not your best idea.” Stan retorted as he led me further into the corridor, holding my hand tightly.

“Oh great. Thanks for that. Real comforting.” I replied, walking blind putting me on edge a little. Stan chuckled and we continued in silence before Stan brought me to a stop again.

“Ok. Ya gonna get the whole deal toots. Real sales pitch an’ everything.”

I could hear the excitement in Stan’s voice and tried to suppress my smile. This man had found his calling in life it seemed. Peddling tall tales.

Stan let go of me and I kept my eyes shut as I heard him shuffling around.

“Stan? Can I open my eyes now?” I asked, tapping my foot lightly after a few seconds.

“Yes. Open them!” Stan crowed.

I opened my eyes and was greeted by a sheet covered thing in front of me.

“Uh, Stan? What is this? A lumpy ghost attraction?” I asked, glancing at Stan who was standing next to the sheet covered attraction.

“Nah. The real treat is what’s underneath. Though, a lumpy ghost isn’t a terrible idea.” He commented, looking thoughtful. “The name would need work though...”

“One attraction at a time.” I smiled, gesturing at the thing in front of me. “Come on, sell me the story.”

“Ah. Right. Well.” Stan grabbed a handful of the sheet before clearing his throat for effect. “Under this sheet ... A very elusive, rare creature... people have searched for it for years, only ever catching glimpses, never seeing its true form... I present to you...”

Stan ripped the sheet off with such a flourish I almost applauded. Until I saw the new attraction.

“THE SASCROTCH!” Stan announced loudly.

I just stared.

The stuffed creature in front of me resembled a very ugly ape. A great forehead and jutting jaw made it look extremely pissed off and I doubted its mood would have been improved if it could see the comically large pair of underpants it was wearing.

Stan was still watching me, eager for a reaction. I grasped for something to say.

“Uhh... I have one question... What is a Sascrotch? Isn’t  that just a rip off of Sasquatch?” I asked, deciding to play devil’s advocate.

Stan grinned.

“Ah! Good question little lady.” He gave me an exaggerated wink. “We’ve all heard about the Sasquatch... But I challenge you this! What if the Sasquatch had never existed, and we were all simply mispronouncing his name?”

I couldn’t help myself.

I burst out laughing. Stan’s flamboyant sales patter and his idea behind this crazy attraction, not to mention the attraction itself, had me in tears. As I slowly got a hold of myself, I caught sight of Stan looking confused and defeated.

“I’m sorry.” I said quickly, wiping my eyes. “I’m not laughing at you. This is supportive laughing!”

Stan glanced between me and the newly dubbed ‘Sascrotch’, not seemingly convinced.

“Yeah, yeah... I guess it was pretty stupid.” He muttered, shoulders hunching over.

“It’s not stupid!” I tried to reassure. “You were right. I actually do love it.”

“Really?” Stan gave me a hopeful smile.

“Yeah! Sasquatch, Sascrotch... It’s clever.” I smiled. “Where did you even get this thing?”

Stan chuckled.

“Well the history museum was tossing this big fella out... apparently it scared the kids... So I snuck it out here.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. I raised an eyebrow at him.

That neck rubbing was a sure sign Stan had probably obtained this stuffed model by dubious means.

“You stole this from their trash didn’t you?” I sighed. Stan grinned guiltily.

“Yeah... But it was in the trash!” He protested.

I shrugged in acceptance. He was right. Not like they wanted it anymore.

“Eh. Fine. It cost nothing and no one’s gonna recognise it in that pair of dashing underwear.” I grinned. Stan gave a bark of laughter as he realised I was on board with his stealing.

“They were in the trash too.”

“You had better be joking Pines.” I deadpanned, pulling a face at the offending garment. Stan just smirked.

“How are you gonna tell if I’m lying or not?” he challenged, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ew.” I replied.

Stan opened his mouth to no doubt come back with another smart assed comment but before he could, a loud crack and bang echoed through the house causing it to shake.

“What the fuck?” Stan swore as he instinctively reached for me.

“What the hell was that? A tree falling?” I asked as Stan pulled me closer.

“Dunno. Guess we better go find out.” Stan replied, jaw set firmly. Nodding, I kept a hold of his hand as we walked toward the end of the corridor.

Danger never seemed far away around this place.

 

Exiting the house, Stan flung his arm out and forced me to stop.

“Stay there.” He said.

“Has that ever worked?” I gave him a sceptical look. Stan sighed.

“If there’s a tree lying against the house or something, I don’t want you getting hurt. Just stay still for once.” Stan said in an exasperated tone. I rolled my eyes but reluctantly took a step back and Stan looked relieved.

As Stan cautiously walked out and examined the outside of the building, I caught sight of something shift in the trees.

“Stan! Get back here!” I yelled, scared another tree was coming down. Stan jumped and spun round just as a giant hand reached out from the trees.

“Holy Moses!” Stan cried out and ran back to me. Tackling me down to the wooden porch, Stan tried to cover me completely. “Stay away you unholy monster!” He yelled at the hand. I peered over his shoulder.

“Stan!” I protested. “Stan, it’s not doing anything!”

Stan twisted awkwardly. The hand was just hovering there, as if we’d startled it with our yelling. I shoved Stan gently.

“Let me up you big dope.” I huffed. “I don’t think it’s gonna hurt us.”

“It’s a giant freaking hand Carla!” Stan protested, even as he let me up. “A. Giant. Hand!”

“I can see that.” I replied, dusting myself down. “I’m not the one who needs new glasses.”

“Hey. We can’t afford them right now.” Stan countered momentarily distracted as he got to his feet.

The hand moved back toward the forest, fingers twitching slightly as I turned to watch it.

“Urgh, that thing is creepy. What’s it doing now?” Stan asked.

“I think we scared it.” I said absently, still fascinated by the large hand covered in bark-like skin.

“Hah! That’s right! Run away ya chump!” Stan crowed. I rolled my eyes at Stan’s cocky bravado.

The hand suddenly stilled and lifted itself higher. Looking up after it, Stan and I watched silently as it reached back out toward the house.

“Uh oh.” Stan muttered.

“Run?” I asked.

“Yup.” Stan grabbed my hand and dragged me off the porch and toward the edge of the clearing.

The giant hand was swatting at the sign perched on top of the roof.

“Hey! HEY!” Stan yelled. “You leave that sign alone! It’s brand new!”

The hand paid no attention to him and continued to swat. Eventually it managed to dislodge one of the large letters. It fell with a thump onto the roof. Seemingly happy with itself, the hand quickly withdrew back into the forest. A muffled thumping and creaking slowly got quieter as the creature moved away.

Stan and I just stayed where we were, staring after it.

“Well. That happened.” Stan said after a moment. I couldn’t really think of anything to add, so I glanced up at the damage done to the roof. After a few seconds, a giggle bubbled out of my throat. Stan glanced at me in concern.

“What?” He asked.

“Look at the sign!” I laughed. Stan looked up at the roof with a frown.

“All I see is more money needed. That kid Dan isn’t gonna be happy about having to put it back up so soon.” Stan grumbled.

“No! Read the sign!” I insisted, still laughing.

Stan read the sign silently, still trying to figure out why I was laughing.

“It says Mystery HACK!” I blurted out. Stan’s eyes widen in realisation and chuckled to himself.

“Kinda ironic.” He muttered. I gasped for air and reached for him.

“That hand clearly knows what goes on around here.” I smiled, catching my breath.

“Wonder if it knew Ford?” Stan asked. “Didn’t see anything written down in that journal.”

“Maybe he didn’t think it was worth noting. Seems kinda harmless.” I shrugged as we walked back toward the house.

“Kinda harmless? It coulda squished us!” Stan exclaimed.

“It wasn’t gonna do anything until you mocked it.” I teased, pausing by the steps. “You and your big mouth.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep going McCorkle. Next time that thing shows up, I might not save ya.” Stan dared, a cheeky glint in his eye.

“You’re bluffing. You’d never let that happen.” I smiled.

“Yeah, ya right. Damn my heart.” Stan smiled. I chuckled, shaking my head before remembering what led us out here in the first place. “Wait. Wasn’t there a loud crash out here earlier? Did you find out what that was?”

“Oh yeah, no. I was distracted by the GIANT FREAKIN’ HAND!” Stan threw his arms up in exasperation and stalked around the corner of the porch.

“Ah shit.”

I heard his low curse and I walked over.

Rounding the corner, I saw what Stan was upset about.

A tree HAD fallen against the building, causing the roof of the back porch to crack and dip alarmingly. I sighed and rested my head against Stan’s shoulder.

“Guess we’re calling Dan after all. Whaddya wanna say caused this?” I asked.

“Reckon he’d buy a big woodpecker?” Stan asked. I looked up at him skeptically. Stan stared down at me.

“What? I said a BIG woodpecker.” He emphasised. I rolled my eyes.

“Fine. But you can convince him. I convinced him you were Ford.” I reminded him as we took one last look at the destruction before walking back inside.

“Yeah, I don’t think he believed ya.” Stan commented. “He always gives me these sneaky glances, like he’s tryna figure somethin’ out.”

“Well he did build this place. Maybe he does know you’re not Ford.” I suggested.

“That’s not funny Carla. If someone else knows, they might let it slip and then everything we’re doing here goes up in smoke!” Stan was getting frantic.

“Calm down Stan.” I stopped him and placed my hand on his arm. “If he does know something, he clearly hasn’t told anyone. Otherwise we’d have heard by now. Ok?” I reassured. Stan chewed his lip and glanced around.

“I can’t lose this place baby. If I do, if we do... everything’s lost.” Stan said quietly.

“I know. But I don’t think we’re in danger yet. Let’s just keep our heads and get this business up and running ok?” I said firmly.

Stan nodded, glancing around at various stands we’d set up for attractions.

“Right. Ya right. We didn’t get this far by worrying.” Stan confirmed, some of his usual cockiness edging back into his voice. “Why start now?”

“That’s the spirit.” I smiled as Stan kissed my cheek and strode off down the hall, muttering about attractions.

Following him at a distance, I gave a small nod of acknowledgement to the Sascrotch.

It may have taken a year, but we were finally ready to start a proper tourist trap here. And while the attractions may be fake, people would never guess the real mystery lying beneath the floorboards.

Stan’s voice called back to me from further inside the house.

“Hey baby? Was it jus’ me or did that hand look like a Steve to you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't quite remember where i first heard the origin story of the Sascrotch... it may have been the Grunkle Stan dating sim... but I'm not sure. Either way, I did not come up with it myself and credit goes to whoever did :)  
> Oh, that last line is a joke reference to a journal entry in the actual Journal 3 book.  
> So I'm kinda proud of it :P


	7. June 1984 - Let's Make it Official

June 1984

 

“Hey baby?” Stan leaned against the door frame. “You gotta minute?”

“Sure. You need me downstairs?” I asked, getting up from the kitchen table.

“Uh, kinda...” Stan replied, turning away into the front room.

“Ok...” I muttered, following him.

Stan was pacing back and forth, hands behind his back. I smiled to myself slightly. Ford had done the same thing when he paced. I idly wondered which one of them had done it first and who had copied the other.

“It’s been what, two years since you moved in right?” Stan asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“Sounds about right.” I agreed, perching on the edge of the recliner.

“And you’re happy right?” Stan stopped his pacing in front of me. I raised an eyebrow.

“Of course, you know I am.” I stood and placed my hands on his arms. “What’s going on?”

Stan placed his arms around me.

“I just want to be sure you’re happy here. You gave up so much for me.” Stan said quietly.

“But look at what I got in return,” I smiled at him, “I got you back.”

Stan rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle.

“Heh, yeah. About that...” He started. I felt my stomach drop sharply.

“You’re not asking me to leave are you?” I asked, my voice sounding shrill and thin. “Did I do something that I shouldn’t have? Cause I’m just as clueless as you when it comes to what’s downstairs you kn-”

“No! No!” Stan quickly placed his hands on my cheeks gently, cutting my panicked rant short. “Never. Just, just gimme a minute here!”

I bit my lip, heart thudding erratically, my hands gripping Stan’s shirt tightly.

“I’ve never been good at this romance stuff...” Stan grumbled. “Remember prom? I couldn’t even remember to pin that damn corsage on.”

I snorted, feeling some of the tension drain from me.

“If that’s your benchmark for romance, I’ve gotta teach you a few new tricks.” I teased.

Stan chuckled, fiddling with his glasses.

“As fun as that sounds Tiny, my point is that if I can’t get a prom tradition right, how am I gonna...” Stan trailed off with a sigh. “Ok. Just hold on. And don’t laugh.”

Stan stepped back from me, patting his back pockets. I watched him carefully. Stan stopped fidgeting and looked at me.

“Ok,” Stan took a deep breath, “it’s been two years since you came back, and every day I’ve thanked god for that,”

“You don’t even believe in god.” I interrupted with a smile.

“Shush, not finished.” Stan waved a hand at me with an exasperated look. “I wanted to do this years ago...” he trailed off and pulled a ring out of his back pocket. I stared in shock, mouth falling open slightly.

“Carla McCorkle, marry me.” Stan said, holding the ring out. My brain went blank. I never thought... Neither of us spoke for a few moments.

“Yes.” I finally whispered, a smile spreading over my face. Stan just stared, shocked.

“Yes!” I reiterated. Stan’s face broke into a grin and he swept me up into his arms with a shout. I giggled as he spun us round the front room.

“Put me down you lunatic.” I swatted his arm playfully. Stan let me slide down through his arms until my feet touched the floor. He grabbed my hand and held the ring out again.

I bounced on the balls of my feet slightly, grinning as Stan slid the ring onto my finger. Stan gripped my hand tightly, twisting his fingers through mine.

“I can’t believe it still fits.” He commented happily, one arm still holding me close.

“I can’t believe you’ve had it so long.” I said, lifting my hand to admire the ring.

It was a beautifully simple ring. A silvery band with a single heart-shaped clear stone. It was perfect.

“You kept that letter.” Stan reminded me, gently stroking my hair back from my face.

“Bit different... You could’ve used the money this would’ve got you.” I said quietly, looking up at him.

“Thought about it a coupla times... But I couldn’t.” Stan shrugged. I reached up and stroked his cheek softly.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” I whispered. Stan smiled and kissed me sweetly. Before he could pull away, I linked my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Stan hummed contentedly and tightened his arms around me. For a few moments we stood still, savouring each other in that moment.

As we pulled away, I waggled my fingers and stared at the ring over Stan’s shoulder.

“It’s just so gorgeous.” I smiled. Stan gently leaned his head against mine.

“Especially now it’s where it was always supposed to be.” He whispered. I grinned like an idiot and Stan chuckled as he let go of me. Stan sat on the recliner and beckoned me over. I snuggled up on his lap, tucking my feet down the side of the recliner. As I settled against Stan, I couldn’t stop staring at the ring in delight.

“Did you ever think this would happen?” Stan asked, watching me with a smile.

“I’d hoped... back in ’71 and not long after I moved in here...” I chuckled. “Though I’m pretty sure the locals already think we’re married. We certainly act it.”  
“That’s true.” Stan grinned. “Suppose we might as well make it official.” I grinned and rested my head on his shoulder. Quiet descended again, the usual creaks of the house, the tick of the clock and Stan’s breathing making up all I could hear.

A sudden thought made me sit back up quickly.

“Wait.” I frowned slightly. “How are we going to make this official? Stanley Pines is known to be dead and I am not marrying Stanford Pines. That’s just not right.”

Stan stared at the wall blankly before pushing his glasses up to rub his eyes.

“Oh yeah. I hadn’t thought that far.” He admitted with a grimace.

“We can’t legally do this can we?” I asked sadly, fiddling with the ring that had just made me so incredibly happy.

“I guess not... I shoulda thought about this more.” Stan groaned. I patted his chest softly.

“Hey, it was still sweet.” I reassured. “And I’m really glad you did. If I could, I’d marry you right now.”

“I screwed it up again.” Stan threw his hands up in exasperation. “It’s prom all over again.”

“I remember prom being a fun night...” I muttered absently, Stan seemingly oblivious to my muttering.

“I proposed without even realising that... god I’m stupid.” Stan sighed.

“Hey. You are not stupid.” I interjected sharply. “You gotta stop calling yourself that.”

“But this was all for nothing.” Stan replied sadly. I sighed.

“Maybe... Give me a minute.” I said, tapping my fingers against him.

A few silent moments passed, Stan staring at me as I tried to think of something to help us.

“Carla, baby, this might be a lost cause.” Stan eventually said, a resigned look on his face. I couldn't stand that look. An idea started to form in my head.

“What if it’s not?” I asked, smiling slyly. I loved being able to out think the con man.

“Explain McCorkle.” Stan demanded with a skeptical look.

“Everyone here already thinks we’re married, and we’re getting good at lying about our lives... why not just continue lying?” I suggested.

“Well, I’m on board with the lying. But what are we lying about?” Stan asked. I chewed the inside on my cheek as I thought.

“How about we go away for the weekend, Portland could be nice,” I smiled, “While in Portland, far away from Gravity Falls, we buy wedding rings. We say we’re getting married to anyone who asks. But when we come back to Gravity Falls, we’re already wearing said wedding rings and we tell everyone HERE that we eloped and got married while we were away!’  I announced happily. Stan laughed loudly.

“I’ve been a bad influence on you.” He grinned and pulled me into a hug. “It’s a great plan. I’m good at swindling and lying.”

“I know... I married you.” I joked. “Swindling and lying included.”

“Of course, legally, we won’t be able to fill in forms as married...” Stan frowned. “That could cause a few hiccups.”

“So we don’t sign any legal documents in Gravity Falls,” I dismissed, “I’ve already watched you commit tax fraud here. I don’t think filling in forms illegally is our main problem STANFORD.” I said pointedly, grinning. Stan rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“You got me.” He said happily.

“Damn right mister.” I smiled and waggled my fingers in front of him. “From now until the day we die.”

“I’m technically already dead.” Stan pointed out and I smacked his chest playfully.

“Smart ass.”

“Short ass.” Stan retorted.

“At least I can use a ladder.” I muttered evilly. Stan laughed heartily and I soon collapsed into giggles with him.

When we finished laughing, Stan wrapped his arms around me contentedly.

“So what do you say Mrs Pines? Next weekend sound good for a fake wedding?”

I thrilled at hearing him call me Mrs Pines.

“Can’t think of any other prior plans Mr Pines.” I replied with a smile.

“Portland here we come.” Stan grinned. I grinned happily and stretched back a little.

“Wait, next weekend is the 15th.” I said, catching sight of the calendar. Stan glanced over and his smile faded.

“Oh. I didn’t realise it was that soon...” He sighed, taking his glasses off. “I guess the weekend after would...”  Stan looked down at his glasses before gritting his teeth. I waited quietly, letting him think it through without interruption.  

“No! Next weekend we’re going to Portland! I’ve been miserable on the 15th for too damn long! It’s my birthday too and I’m going to spend it getting fake married to the girl I love!” He ranted suddenly. “It’s one birthday out of many. Screw it.”

I rested my hand against his cheek softly, touched by his decision.

“You sure?” I asked. Stan grabbed my hand.

“Never been more sure of anything.” He smiled, though still a little sadly. I kissed his nose sweetly.

“You’re amazing. Never let me forget that.” I said softly.

“I’m your soon-to-be husband,” Stan shrugged, “I’ll remind you every day. And night.” He added with a wink.

I rolled my eyes and slid off his lap.

“You know what, I take it back. You’re not amazing.” I teased. Stan laughed and slipped his glasses back on.

“You love me.” He called as I walked back to the kitchen.

“For whatever reason,” I murmured to myself with a smile as I stared down at my engagement ring, “I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys.  
> Just to let you know, the next few chapters may not be uploaded as regularly as others have been. I'm currently going through a few medical issues and I have to focus on my recovery. But I will still be continuing to upload, just maybe not as on time as usual :)


	8. September 1990 - The Art of the Con

September 1990 

 

Tying a ribbon around the bun in my hair, I checked my reflection for what felt like the millionth time.

It looked fine, Stan was going to love this, just the kind of gimmick he’d make up. Why did I feel so self conscious?

“Geez Carla. What’s taking ya so long?” Stan knocked on the door, causing me to jump. Nowhere to hide now.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.” I answered back, thinking fast.

“A surprise?” Stan parroted.

“Yeah. You ready for this?” I asked, walking over to the door.

“I dunno. Is it a good surprise?” Stan sounded hesitant.

“I hope so. Take a step back,” I rested my hand on the door handle, “I’m coming out now.”

Opening the door, I made weak jazz hands as I waited for Stan’s reaction.

“Tah-dah!”

“Oh wow...” Stan breathed, eyes lightening up as he took in the suit I was wearing. It was a close copy of his own; black pants, a white blouse with a maroon tie and a black suit jacket. I’d even added a maroon ribbon in my hair.

“It’s like looking in a better looking mirror.” Stan grinned, gesturing down at his suit.

I matched his grin and twirled on the spot.

“Where did you get this?” Stan asked as I came to a stop.

“I already had most of it. But I found the jacket in the local thrift store. A little bit of tailoring and bam! An instant Mrs Mystery!” I smiled. Stan chuckled and reached out to me. Taking his hand, I let him pull me close.

“I still think ya missing something Mrs Mystery.” He mused with an appraising look.

“What? All I needed was a suit.” I said, scrunching my eyebrows together.

“Ya missing this.” Stan plucked his fez from his head and dumped it on mine. The maroon hat was too large for me and it slipped forward down my forehead. I pulled a face.

Stan chuckled and gently pushed it back until it was balancing on my head.

“There. Now ya look perfect.” Stan smiled.

I rolled my eyes with a smile before reaching up and removing the fez. Holding it gently, I flicked the tassel absently.

“It’s a shame you don’t have two of these.” I said.

“How come?” Stan shifted so he could hold me in his arms as I stared down at the fez.

“Then we could be dressed identically. The tourists would probably get a kick out of it.” I smiled to myself. Stan stared at me, mouth hanging open. I glanced up when I realised that he hadn’t said anything.

“That’s brilliant Tiny!” He exclaimed. “Why hadn’t we thought of that before?”

“Because...” I paused for a moment. “Actually I don’t know why we haven’t thought about this before. This is right up your alley.”

“You’re right! I’m losing my touch over here.” Stan grumbled. I swatted his chest lightly.

“You’re not losing your touch. You just needed a partner in crime.” I teased, standing on tiptoe and replacing the fez on his head. Stan leaned down and kissed my nose sweetly.

“Couldn’t ask for a better partner in crime.” He replied.

I beamed like an idiot and just wrapped my arms around Stan. Stan hugged me back, lifting me off the ground slightly.

“We should try the whole seeing double thing though.” Stan said as he put me back down. “It could be great.”

“Worth a shot... but won’t it be a little obvious since I don’t have a fez? And since I’m a woman?” I pointed out as Stan let go of me. Stan waved a hand dismissively.

“Please. Those suckers come for the showmanship, the obviously fake attractions and the overpriced crap in the shop. They’re not gonna care that we’re not identical.”  Stan slipped his hand into mine and we walked down the stairs.

“You think so?” I asked.

“Absolutely. We should definitely do it. It’s all in the sales pitch. We can make this work.” Stan assured confidently as we walked through to the shop.

“Well, any ideas how?” I walked over to the cash register and knocked it with my elbow, causing it to spring open.

“Let’s see...” Stan stood in the middle of the room, hand rubbing his chin. “Ya always in the shop... the tour ends in the shop... do we still have that crappy screen hanging around?”

“Mm... didn’t you shove it in the storage room?” I glanced up from counting the day’s base cash. Stan snapped his fingers.

“Got it! Be right back. Don’t move!” He called excitedly as he dashed from the room.

“Where does he think I’m gonna go?” I smiled as I replaced the notes in the cash register.

There were muffled thumps and expletives as Stan dragged an old fabric screen back into the shop.

“So. If you hide behind this... oh.” Stan stuck his hand through the giant rip in the middle of the screen. I chewed my lip, thinking over our other options.

“What if I just hide behind the desk?” I suggested. Stan perked back up.

“That might work...” Stan nodded, pursing his lips. “What about me though?”

“You have those smoke bomb things right?” I walked out from behind the counter. “Why not set one of them off, you dart back into the house and I pop up behind the counter. It’s like you vanish and reappear as a woman.” I smiled.

Stan was staring at me again.

“What?” I asked, smoothing my hands nervously down the front of my pants.

“I’ve told you ya brilliant right?” He said. I nodded, a shy smile settling on my face.

“Well you are. Now. Let’s get ready to rip some suckers off.” Stan clapped his hands together before striding to the door and flipping the sign to ‘Open’.

“No one’s even here yet.” I pointed out. “It’s only 8 in the morning. And it’s September.”

“Oh yeah. Well, I can still get ready to rip suckers off. Chuck me that marker.” Stan ordered. I obeyed without thinking, tossing the marker that Stan caught with ease.

“What are you planning?” I asked. Stan walked over to the shelves and began to scribble on the price stickers.

“If they’ll pay 10 bucks, they’ll pay 20!” Stan announced. I rolled my eyes.

“You have a serious problem.” I commented.

“Hey! We need the money.” Stan retorted.

“I’m not complaining. I know we need the money. I just can’t believe people actually pay that much. Even after all these years, I still can’t believe we’re getting away with it.” I said, holding my hands up defensively as Stan turned to me.

“Heh. I know. But what can I say? I have a gift for making people buy junk.” Stan winked exaggeratedly and I giggled.

“You really do.” I agreed. Stan sauntered over and slapped a hand on the counter. Leaning forward, Stan waggled his eyebrows licentiously.

“I also have a gift for getting people to give me things.” He added. I quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Oh yeah? I’d love to see you try.” I challenged, crossing my arms.

“Deal.” Stan grinned rakishly. “Wanna kiss on it?”

“That’s your sales pitch?” I smirked. “Kinda obvious.”

“Sometimes the obvious works best.” Stan blustered confidently. I rolled my eyes before closing them as Stan closed the last few inches between us to kiss me, his arms moving to hold me close.

Nipping his bottom lip softly, I hummed contentedly. Stan gave a soft moan and I smiled against him. I still got butterflies when Stan kissed me, that feeling of comfort and security that surrounded me at his touch was practically physical. I couldn’t live without Stan’s touch anymore.

Stan pulled away gently, eyes still half closed.

Leaning forward, I rested against him, not quite willing to let him get away yet.

“Is it wrong to be attracted to a girl version of yourself?” Stan muttered in the quiet.

“Absolutely. But why let it stop you?” I jibed. Stan chuckled.

“I love you baby.” He said softly, kissing my cheek.

“I love you too.” I whispered back. Stan huffed in contentment and we stood, enjoying the stillness before our day would really begin.

 

X

 

Checking my watch, I figured I had roughly 5 minutes before Stan would be leading the first group of tourists into the shop.

In fact, I could already hear Stan’s sale patter as he made the tourists laugh. Crouching on the ground behind the counter, I waited patiently.

“And welcome to the Mystery Shack gift shop folks! What wonders and treasures await you? Step through and find out!”

There was a sudden clatter of feet and voices.

“But wait! This gift shop contains a mystery of its very own!” Stan was always at his best when he was setting up a con. I loved it.

Bracing myself for the cue we’d decided on, I listened to Stan continue.

“This very shack was built on top of sacred land, scattered with mystical crystals like this one right here,” there was a faint whisper of cloth as Stan revealed a chunk of coloured glass, “that cause strange and unexplainable things to happen!”

I could practically see Stan’s sales pitch, right down to him wiggling his fingers to try and spook people.

“And even I, the amazing Mr Mystery, am not immune to its... Oh! Oh no! Something is happening...!”

There was a sudden whoosh and pop as Stan set off one of his pocket smoke bombs. There it was, my cue.

Leaping to my feet, I rapped my knuckles on the wood before beaming widely at the coughing tourists as they turned to me.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I hope you’ve had a befuddling and stupefying time! I’m Mrs Mystery and please take a look at our moderately priced merchandise!” I announced with a flourish. The tourists oohed and aahed as they took in my appearance before applauding.

Stan worked his magic with his smoke bombs again and appeared in a flash beside me. My smile never faltered, even as Stan linked arms with me and gestured with his 8-ball cane.

“You heard the pretty lady folks. Browse our merchandise!”

The tourists applauded us once more before breaking up and wandering around the shop.

Taking the opportunity, I bounced up onto my toes and pecked Stan’s cheek. Stan flushed a little and moved his arm to squeeze me around the waist softly.

“You did great Mrs Mystery.” Stan muttered out the corner of his mouth.

“Not bad for my first day.” I replied. Stan smirked and cast a critical eye over the crowd in the shop.

“Time to get to work.” He cracked his knuckles and fixed his most charming smile on his face before moving out from behind the counter, sneakily patting my ass as he did so.

As Stan began to work the room, flirting and telling tall tales to customers, I waited for the first sale. Stan winked exaggeratedly at a middle aged woman who giggled and began to walk toward the counter with arms full of merchandise.

“Hi there. Find something exciting?” I smiled warmly at her.

“Oh yes. They’re going to make fantastic gifts for my nieces.” She exclaimed happily.

“Well, we aim for delight and whimsy for all ages.” I quipped, starting to ring up her purchases.

“That trick with the smoke and matching suits, that was amazing! You guys were great.” The lady gushed happily.

“Thank you.” I replied as I stacked her purchases neatly.

“How long have you two been working together?” She asked.

“Oh, about 6 years now.” I said. The lady nodded.

“You two seem very happy together.” She smiled, giving my wedding ring a knowing glance. I gave her a genuine smile as I handed back her purchases.

“Thank you very much. I hope you enjoyed your visit to our humble Mystery Shack.”

The lady nodded eagerly.

“Oh I did! Pass on my compliments to your husband.” She waved cheerfully as she walked towards the door.

Gently twisting my wedding ring, I smiled to myself.

Mr and Mrs Mystery were in business.

 

X

 

“Well, that went well.” I brushed a stray strand of hair away from my face as I closed the register with a bump from my hip.

“Yep. Though I reckon that’s probably it for the day.” Stan was staring out the window.

“Stan, it’s not even 1 o’clock yet.” I walked over and leaned on him.

“Just wait. Bet you 10 bucks I’m right.” Stan challenged as he looked down at me fondly. I snorted.

“I’d rather bet you an afternoon off.”

Stan grinned. He could never refuse a bet.

“You’re on. If no one shows up in the next hour, we get to call it a day. If people do show up,”

“Enough for a tour.” I stipulated, holding a finger up.

“Enough people for a tour.” Stan agreed before continuing. “Then you get to be the boss for a week.”

I narrowed my eyes at that. Being the boss for a week was a high stake. Did Stan know something I didn’t? But... it was tempting. Either way I won. What did I have to lose? Really?

“You’re on Pines.” I held my hand up.

Stan’s large hand completely engulfed mine.

“Deal Tiny.” Stan lifted my hand to his lips and brushed a kiss against it. “So what do we do to pass the next hour?”

“We stock take. We were meant to do it over the weekend.” I said pointedly, still blaming Stan for the faerie invasion we’d recently been subjected too. Stan held his hands up in innocence.

“Not my fault that stupid book forgot to mention how dangerous those faeries were!” He protested.

“You didn’t have to “accidently” summon them either!” I stuck my tongue out at him. Stan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Heh. Ya got me there. Though I still think it’s not entirely my fault.” Stan reluctantly admitted. I snorted derisively as I headed to the small office/storage room.

 

Stan may claim innocence, but _I_ was the one with bite marks on her arms.

After Stan had “accidently” uttered the summoning rite out loud as he was reading, we’d been swarmed by tiny, twinkling creatures as we sat in the front room. And they were not the nice twinkling type of creatures. These things had sharp, pointy teeth. I rubbed my arm unconsciously. _Very_ pointy teeth. Stan had started swatting the things with that damn journal, only succeeding in making them very angry.

It was a good thing Ford had scribbled the chemical symbol for iron on the same page as the faerie summoning rite. It sparked my memory eventually. Fae folk don’t like iron. I’d dived for the kitchen as the faeries bit me, grabbing the reassuringly solid cast-iron pan and we managed to scare every last one of the winged vermin out of the house by brandishing it at them threateningly.

Then we proceeded to spend the rest of the weekend placing scrap pieces of iron salvaged from Ford’s lab and the town junkyard around the house to keep the little nuisances out.

 

 Grabbing a clipboard and the latest box of merchandise, I made my way back out to the main shop. Stan was standing by the door, apparently on tourist watch.

“Have I won yet?” I teased, placing the box on the counter. Stan turned with a cocky grin.

“Ya not going win Carla baby.” He assured.

“Uh _huh_ ,” I said sceptically, “you wanna come help me then? Since we’ve still got 50 minutes.”

“Sure.” Stan held his hand out for the list of items and their prices. I shoved the box toward him with a sly smile. Stan gave me a look.

“What?”

“You’re setting up. I get the easy job today. Call it punishment for the fairy bites” I hopped up onto the counter, stretching to the side to get a pen. Stan took the box from the counter as he grumbled something about his back.

“Oh please! Your back is fine.” I said airily, still straining to reach the pot of pens. “Damn.” The pot was just out of reach of my finger tips.

Stan snorted and I flashed a look at him. He was standing there watching me struggle, his arms folded with an irritatingly handsome smirk on his face.

“Arms too short Tiny?” He drawled. I glowered.

“You could help you know.” I shot back. Stan chuckled and took a few steps forward. I watched as he plucked the pen pot up and placed it back down... on the OTHER side of the register.

I scowled at him.

“That is not helping.” I reprimanded, resting on my outstretched hand. “Now pass me a pen.”

Stan held up a finger in a very scolding-like fashion. I sighed.

“Pass me a pen, _please_.”

Stan thought about it for a moment and took another, deliberate step away from the register and closer to where my legs were dangling from the edge of the counter. I harrumphed in frustration and went to straighten up before Stan’s arms shot out and held me still.

“Stock taking is boring.” Stan said childishly, eyes glittering. I rolled my eyes.

“Stan, it’s sorta necessary for OUR business.” I tried to tug my arm from his grasp but Stan simply tightened his grip. “Oh good god Stan. We’re still open you know. What would tourists think if they saw us right now?” I appealed. Stan gave me a rakish grin.

“Doesn’t matter. No one’s gonna show up.” Stan leaned closer and my heart stuttered as his lips brushed along my cheek before resting at the curve of my ear. “So relax kitten.” I swallowed hard and leaned my head forward to lightly head butt Stan’s jaw.

“Let me up you moron.” I tried to be firm, but a faint tremble to my voice betrayed me. Stan chuckled, the noise low and seductive in my ear.

“Fine.” Stan nipped my ear gently, ignoring the tiny gasp that escaped me, before quickly and easily shifting me so I was sitting up in front of him, his hips fitting snugly between my legs. Out of instinct, I wrapped my legs around him.

Stan hummed approvingly and caught my lips in a swift kiss.

Completely surrendering, I wrapped my arms around his neck and let my fingers tangle in the soft curls of Stan’s hair.

Stan broke away with a grin and I whined quietly.

“How’s about you just call the bet quits kitten? Then we get all afternoon to do whatever we want.” Stan said, his cocky grin only matched by the intensity of his eyes. I looked at the door, thought for a moment, then turned back to Stan.

“Fine. No one else is showing up. We can take the afternoon off.” I surrendered, arching back towards him. Stan kissed me again, dipping me back slightly, hands spread across my back. I lost myself at his touch, feeling the soft, insistent nip of Stan’s teeth against my lip. As I deepened the kiss, Stan’s tongue gently invading my mouth, I plucked the fez from his head and tugged his hair sharply. Stan gasped before growling slightly and I felt my stomach drop in anticipation.

“What are you playing at kitten?” Stan muttered against my lips.

“I’m the boss for the next week remember?” I murmured back, pecking Stan’s lips. Stan drew back, confusion clouding his face.

“I won the bet baby.” Stan pointed out. I pointed at the door.

“Only by cheating.” I said with a smile.

The shop’s sign had been flipped from “Open” to “Closed”.

Stan went red.

“Damn. I didn’t think ya’d notice.” He mumbled, adorable in his guilt. I popped the fez on my head and grinned.

“I have better eyesight than you Pines.” I teased. “So in forfeit, I get to be the boss for a week.” I crowed happily. Stan huffed and crossed his arms.

“So what now?” He asked. I made a show of thinking for a moment.

“Well, right now, I declare a half day for all employees. I think we deserve a little fun.” I winked. Stan’s face split into a massive smile. Wrapping his arms around me once more, Stan lifted me off the counter and turned toward the house entrance.

“Hey Carla?” Stan asked as we entered the front room.

“Yeah?” I replied, holding the fez in place with one hand.

“Can ya keep the fez on? I think I might have a vanity kink.”

My laughed echoed throughout the house.  


	9. August 1999 - Family Surprises

August 1999 

 

“Mail’s been!” Stan called, slamming the door shut behind him.

“I’m in the shop!” I called back. As Stan walked through, I glanced up from the new pricing list.

“Anything good?”

“Bill, final payment, bill, bill, speeding ticket...” Stan pulled a face. “Was hardly doing even 50.”

“In a 30 dear.” I added, walking over.

“Yeah, yeah. Not like I hit anyone.” Stan grumbled.

“I don’t think the cops saw it that way.” I smiled, patting his arm.

“Whatever.” Stan dismissed as he continued to sort through the mail. “Oh, one for you.”

I reached over and plucked the envelope from the bunch. Leaning against the counter, I examined the envelope.

_Carla McCorkle & Stanford Pines_

_618 Gopher road_

_Gravity Falls 8177_

_Oregon_

“Technically it’s for both of us.” I said, waving the envelope at Stan.

“I don’t recognise the writing.” Stan commented, choosing to ignore me. Not taking any offence at his snub, I flipped the envelope over and caught sight of a scrawled address.

“I think it’s from Sherm.” I answered, sliding my finger into the crease.

“Sherm? He has our address?” Stan leaned over and slid an arm around me.

Well, your ma has it. He probably got it from her.” I said as I rested against him, pulling the letter out. I skimmed through the letter, aware that Stan was watching over my shoulder.

“Oh! Little Matthew is gonna be a father!” I exclaimed.

“Matthew? Little Shermie!” Stan snatched the letter from my hand and I rolled my eyes.

“I wasn’t done Stan.” I huffed as I leaned over his arm, trying to continue reading.

“He says it’s going to be twins!” Stan said excitedly.

“Where?”I stood on tiptoe to see.

“Twins! Another set of twins!” Stan repeated eagerly. I finally managed to get the letter back and continued reading.

“It says their due date is later this month.” I said.

“I’m gonna be... wait. What am I gonna be?” Stan asked.

“Great Uncle I think. Matthew is your nephew, so his kids will be your great nieces or nephews.” I replied absently. “We should go to California to see them.”

Stan jolted.

“What? We can’t. We’ve talked about this.” He said.

“It’s been 20 years. Who’s gonna remember? Sherm hasn’t seen you since you were 15. This a special occasion.” I said calmly, waiting for Stan’s predictable protest. We’d had this conversation many times.

“But they’re gonna know I’m not Ford!” Stan practically wailed. “And god, what if Ma is there? She’s gonna know instantly! You know what she’s like!”

“Keep your hands in your pockets then.” I flipped the page over to continue reading. “Because your Ma will be there. She moved to California last year. She’s living with Sherm now.”

“Oh great. So I’m screwed if we go.” Stan dragged a hand through his greying hair and began to pace in agitation.

“Come on Stan. It won’t be that bad.” I tried to reassure him. I understood his reluctance and refusal to go, of course Gina was gonna know Stan wasn’t Ford. But I also kinda wanted her to find out, I needed her too. This secret was too big for just me and Stan to keep to ourselves forever.

“Seriously Carla? How could this be good?” Stan rounded on me with a panicked expression.

“Maybe it’s a sign that you should tell your ma about not being dead.” I suggested, hoping Stan might pick up on my intentions here.

Stan snorted.

“A ‘sign’? You’re as bad as some of the tourists.” Stan dismissed. “If we tell her I’m not dead, she’s gonna want to know what happened to Ford, and why you didn’t tell her the truth, and it will just ruin everything!”

“Or it gives you a connection with your family again.” I interjected. “You know, the thing you pretend you don’t want, but secretly crave?”

Stan stopped dead and looked at me, his guilt visible for a moment before he tried to cover it.

“I already have family. I have you.” He said quietly, but his eyes betrayed him.

“I know. And I love our little family of two. But wouldn’t it be nice to see your ma again? And to finally see Sherm and Matthew again?” I wheedled. “And we’ll get to meet the two newest Pines twins. It could be a good thing to let them know you’re still alive.”

Stan huffed out a sigh and took off his glasses before dragging his hand down his face.

“Low blow Tiny.” He muttered. “Using family against me.”

I stepped forward and gripped his arms lightly, relief buoying me up.

“Look, whatever happens down there, we’ll be together. And no matter what, I will still be coming back here with you. Back to our home.” I said firmly.

Stan looked at me with hope in his eyes. I smiled happily at him.

“We’re really gonna do this then? Go and visit family?” Stan said with an upbeat lilt creeping into his voice.

“Yeah. We’re gonna go see family.”  I agreed. “Though we may need to write a list of what we ARE going to tell them and what we’re not.” I added.

Stan chuckled, sliding his glasses back on.

“Worth it for family.”

 

X

 

“Ok. Ya know what, we’re leaving. It’s not worth it” Stan said nervously as he paced in the hotel room. I shook my head at my reflection in the mirror, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“We’re not leaving. We’re going to see your family.” I reminded him. Stan sighed and stopped pacing.

“Is this really the best idea?” He asked.

“Yes.” I replied before walking over and grabbing his jacket from the bed. “Now we should be leaving. I told Sherm we’d meet him at his place at 10.”

Stan paled visibly.

“What? I can’t...”

“Yes you can sweetheart. They’re family.” I soothed.

“Why aren’t we going straight to the hospital?” Stan scratched the back of his hand worriedly.

“Because I thought it might be better for you to see them first and get it over with.” I explained, taking hold of one of his hands and rubbing my thumb over the back of it softly. Stan let out a shaky breath before nodding.

“Makes sense... But, Carla, what if they hate me after this?” Stan asked, pain evident in his tone.

“They’re not going to.” I reassured, lightly placing a hand on his cheek. “Trust me.”

I had to hold onto that. I didn’t know how Gina was going to take this. Or Sherm. It could go badly, very quickly. But I knew this was the right thing to do. We’d been alone for too long. Stan needed his family back in his life.

Stan sighed and threw his shoulders back, straightening his back and fixing a large smile on his face before straightening his glasses. His old bravado back in place, Stan took his jacket from me and slipped it on.

“Come on baby. Let’s go face them.” He smiled bravely.

 

Pulling into the driveway in front of a small bungalow, Stan parked the car and took a deep breath.

“Want me to go in first and soften them up?” I asked playfully. Stan gritted his teeth and shook his head.

“Nah. I can do this. Right?” He asked with a sideways glance.

“Right.” I smiled.

We got out of the car and walked toward the house, Stan taking a tight hold of my hand as we got to the door. Reaching out, I pressed the buzzer.

As uneven footsteps approached the door, Stan swallowed deeply and squeezed my hand. I squeezed back for reassurance.

The door opened and there was an older, more polished version of Stan standing in the doorway leaning on a cane. There was a beat of silence before I stepped forward.

“Sherm!” I said happily, holding my arms out to the man in front of me. He smiled widely, gathering me close with an arm like no time had passed between us.

“Carla! You’ve hardly changed! How long has it been?” Sherm asked as he hugged me tightly.

“Oh, too long now.” I smiled. “I haven’t lived in Jersey since ’82.”

“Seems like yesterday.” Sherm let me go with a quick peck on my cheek before turning to Stan who was starting to hunch in on himself. When he realized Sherm was looking at him, Stan started to turn red and coughed awkwardly.

“Sherm.” Stan said curtly, nerves showing through his usual cockiness.

“Stanford...” Sherm seemed to be struggling. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Stan’s eyes darted down at the ground, Sherm’s face and then landed on my face. I smiled encouragingly and reached for his hand. Stan took it gratefully, Sherm giving us a look of surprise.

“It’s, ah, good to see you again too.” Stan said gruffly. Sherm tore his eyes away from our linked hands and cleared his throat.

“Right. Ah, right. You better get inside. Ma’s going to be mad if I let you stand out here any longer.” Sherm moved to the side and gestured us in before closing the door behind us.  
“How’s Gina?”I asked as we entered the house, Stan reaching for my coat automatically. Sherm was still watching us with a curious expression on his face.

“I’m doing just fine my dear.” A thick Jersey accent entered the hallway and I felt Stan freeze behind me.

“Gina!” I exclaimed and excitedly hurried forward to hug the petite woman. Gina had gotten much frailer than the last time I’d seen her. However, that didn’t do anything to stem the warmth that radiated from her. Her dark eyes were still sharp and her mouth still quick. The black tresses that fell over her shoulders had turned silver with age, but had lost none of its thickness. I immediately felt a wave of love for this remarkable woman.

Gina hugged me back fiercely, staring over my shoulder at Stan.

“It’s so good to see you again. I didn’t even know you’d moved to California until that letter.” I said as we parted, still holding her shoulders.

“Hah. Well after Filbrick passed,” Gina pursed her lips at her late husband’s name, “The shop was doomed. Nobody wanted psychic readings anymore either... Decided to cut my losses and move somewhere warmer.” Gina glanced between me and Stan. “You two should go and sit down. I want to be all caught up on your lives since I haven’t see ya in years. Thought ya mighta come to the funueral but...” Gina left the end of her sentence hanging accusingly

Stan and I exchanged a guilty glance.

“Sorry Ma, it’s just, we were real busy.” Stan said quietly. Gina harrumphed and walked into the front room, Sherm not far behind her.

“You know, I didn’t even like your dad and yet I still feel guilty for not not going to the damn funeral.” I whispered to Stan with a faint grimace.

Stan didn’t reply, just looked down at his hands and shoved them deep in his pockets. I sighed and nudged him gently with my shoulder.

“Chin up. It’s gonna be ok.” I reassured quietly as we walked into the front room to sit on the light coloured couch. “They aren’t going to hate us.”

“Let me get a look at my son then.” Gina suddenly walked up and tilted Stan’s head back with deft fingers. Stan swallowed nervously as Gina stared at him. She took a step back and eyed him up and down, assessing him closely.

“Well, Carla’s definitely feeding you.” She said with a wry smile. I chuckled.

“The local diner doesn’t help. They do good ol’ fashioned cooking with huge portions.” I smiled.

“Guess you’d need em up there in winter.” Sherm commented from the chair opposite us.

Gina laid a hand on Stan’s cheek.

“It’s good to see you again baby.” She said softly. “After your pa died, I’d hoped you might come home more often. God knows that man ruined a lot of things.”

“Ma...” Stan rested his hand over hers. “I’m really sorry I didn’t come back. I thought it’d be best if-”

“Wait. Did you two get married?” Sherm suddenly interrupted. My eyes flew to Stan’s hand and then to mine.

Shit. Wedding rings. Dead giveaway. Maybe too obvious.

Stan apparently had the same thought. We glanced at each other as Gina gently took hold of Stan’s hand and examined the ring before looking at me.

“That’s a very good question. Ya couldn’t tell me about this?” She asked. I froze, not entirely sure what she meant giving she was holding Stan’s five-fingered hand and examining it with her sharp eyes.

Even Stan’s natural showmanship seemed to have deserted him. I spread my hands in an apologetic gesture, hoping she’d figure it out without me having to fill in the blanks.

“I didn’t even know you two had feelings for each other.” Sherm said.

“No... Never thought I’d see my Stanford and Carla together.” Gina added slowly, looking down at Stan’s hand. Her words seemed strangely pointed and I held my breath. This is what I’d wanted right?

“Sherm, baby. Go and get these two some drinks. Then they can tell us exactly what happened.” Gina suddenly changed track, startling both me and Stan as she looked over her shoulder at him.

“Sure thing ma. Coffee?” Sherm asked. I nodded.

“Yeah. Thanks Sherm.” Stan said quickly.

Sherm pushed himself up using his cane and left the room.  Gina turned to us, hand on her hip, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t out the two of ya right now for lying to us.” She said. Stan gave a weak chuckle and nudged me gently.

“Busted us huh ma?” he said. Gina clucked softly.

“Absolutely. Why the hell didn’t ya tell me sooner you knucklehead?” Gina cuffed Stan’s head lightly.

“Didn’t know how to ma. It got complicated.”

“Well, where’s my Ford at then?” Gina asked.

“That’s the complicated part Gina. I’m not sure we can explain that one yet.” I added.

Gina gave me a long, hard look before sighing softly.

“Alright. As long as the two of ya know what ya doing, I know Ford’ll be back one day.”

Stan gave a start and looked at his mom with sad eyes.

“You can’t know that ma.” He said. Gina cuffed his head again in reprimand.

“How many times I been right about crap in the past Stanley?” She asked, an amused look on her face. Stan snorted and dropped his eyes back down to the carpet. I smiled, despite the apprehension of letting another person in on our secret, glad that Gina seemed to be taking everything in her stride.

“Are you mad at us ma? For keeping this a secret from ya?” Stan asked, still staring at the floor. Gina stroked his hair lightly.

“Stan, baby, I figured out ya weren’t dead when Carla moved to Oregon.” She admitted. I stared in shock.

“What? How? Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, mind reeling. Had Gina really known this entire time? Gina smiled knowingly and sat in one of the other chairs.

“Ya wouldn’t have moved for Stanford hon. There was only ever one of my boys you’d have given up ya life for.” Gina said. Stan rubbed the back of his neck.

“Heh. Well, about that...” He started. Gina cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“When ya ready, you’ll tell me the whole story. Now about those wedding rings?” Gina said pointedly. I took hold of Stan’s hand softly.

“Always knew I’d end up being a Pines.” I smiled, deciding to skim over the part where we were only pretending to be married. Before Gina could say anything, Sherm walked back into the room with a tray holding our coffee.

“So you finally became a Pines then Carla?” He asked with a smile as I leapt up to take the tray from him, allowing Sherm to sit back down in his chair before he could fall.

“Yup.” I handed out the steaming coffee to Gina and Stan. “But not in the way I expected.”

“Oh? Because you married Stanford here?” Sherm said as he settled himself, taking the mug I offered him. Gina snorted into her coffee and I struggled not to start laughing myself. I was feeling almost giddy at the knowledge that Gina knew about us and was accepting it.

Stan shifted and sighed.

“Sherm. I’m not Stanford.” He said bluntly. I watched Sherm carefully as he tried to understand what Stan had said.

“What?” He eventually mustered, eyes dancing between me and Stan.

“I’m not Stanford.” Stan repeated. “Count the fingers.” Stan held up his hand, spreading his fingers. Sherm counted quickly, his face paling slightly.

“Stanley?” He whispered. Stan grinned shyly.

“Hey Sherm.” He said.

Sherm stood up so quickly he almost tripped over the coffee table as he flung himself at Stan, hugging him tightly.

“We thought you were dead!” He exclaimed in Stan’s ear. “There’s a memorial stone back home and everything! What happened?”

“Hey, hey. Sherm. Getta hold of ya self.” Stan gently untangled Sherm from him, clearly surprised and unsure about his reaction. “Some stuff happened that I’m not proud of and, well, it’s complicated ok?”

Sherm nodded dumbly, still drinking in Stan’s appearance like he was seeing him for the first time as Stan helped him back to his chair.

“But what about Stanford?” Sherm glanced back Gina. “Ma? Did you know about this?” Gina nodded, taking a calm sip of coffee.

“Yeah. Knew it straight away. Know ma boys better than they know themselves.” She said. Sherm looked at me.

“Carla? You knew too didn’t you? That’s why you moved.”

“Sorry I never told you Sherm.” I smiled apologetically. “But I didn’t even know how to start explaining this too you.”

“This is,” Sherm let out a long, low breath, “this is huge. I don’t know how to process this.”

“Then don’t think about it.” Stan offered in his usual blunt manner.

“How can I not?” Sherm countered. “There’s so many questions! Why were we told you died? Where were you? Why are you using Stanford’s name? Where is Stanford? Why hide in Oregon?”

“Ok hon.” Gina leaned over and rested a hand on Sherm’s arm. “That’s enough. Stanley’s right. Don’t think about it for now. Answers will come in time.”

“But ma...” Sherm turned to Gina and visibly slumped over when he saw the set line of her mouth. “I just don’t understand...”

“If it helps, neither did I for a long time.” I offered. “But it was pretty simple eventually. Stan was alive and still loved me. That’s all I needed to know.” I took hold of Stan’s hand and felt him squeeze my hand.

Sherm looked at me. I put on a brave smile and continued.

“Maybe all you need to focus on is that Stan’s alive, he’s here and you’ve gotten to see your baby brother for the first time since he was 15. Can you do that Sherm? For now?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t press to the subject too far, despite knowing that stubbornness was a Pines family trait.

Sherm sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t say I understand or like this, but... I suppose you’re right Carla. The brother I thought I’d never see again is sitting in my front room, and I’m talking to him like he was never dead...”

“In all fairness, I never died,” Stan interrupted, “just said I did.”

Sherm stopped, face blank and I smacked Stan’s shoulder lightly.

“Don’t interrupt your brother.” I scolded with a faint smile.

“ Brother...” Sherm seemed to have lost his train of thought so Gina leaned forward and filled it in for him.

“This is enough for now. Two of ma boys and a new daughter-in-law, that’s all this old lady needs.”

I let out a sigh of relief and squeezed Stan’s hand. Stan smiled widely, looking properly happy for the first time since our decision to come here.

“I shoulda remembered about the fingers.” Sherm shook his head. “I used to make all those damn finger puppets for Ford when we were little.”

“He loved those things.” Stan smiled widely. “He was so good with them too!”

“Did you guys ever put on puppet shows for Matthew? When I was... away...” Sherm asked carefully with a glance at his mom. Stan nodded, everyone happy to avoid talking about the reason why Sherm hadn’t been around.

“A coupla times... he preferred when I read to him though.” He said proudly. Gina smiled.

“You raided the attic for hours tryna find ya old story books for Matthew.” She said softly. “Filbrick complained about the noise you were making... Never was happy that man.”

“Yeah, well. His loss.” Stan dismissed easily. “Shermie loved those stories and I’d have made way more noise to find those books for him.”

“Matthew.” I reminded automatically, sipping my coffee.

“Yeah. Matthew. Sorry.” Stan corrected. Sherm shook his head in understanding.

“I still do the same. I understand him using his middle name, but he’ll always be Sherman to me.”

“Who would name their child Sherman?” Gina joked. “Terrible name, bad judgement from his parents really.”

“Aw Ma. Come on. Better judgement than naming both twins Stan at least.” Stan jibed. Gina’s peal of laughter brought much needed relief to the room. I felt my heart swell at the sight of the two brothers reminiscing with their mom after so long.

“Sorry to interrupt, but when are we looking at going to the hospital?” I asked as I caught sight of the clock.

“After you’ve finished your coffee. Matthew called this morning, the doctor said Emily’s pretty close apparently.” Sherm said with an excited smile. “So my grandkids should arrive today.”

“Can’t believe there’s gonna be another set of Pines Twins.” Stan smiled.

“Hopefully they’re not as much trouble as you and ya brother were.” Gina said with a mock scowl.

“They’re gonna be Pines twins,” I smiled, “It goes without saying that they’ll be trouble.”

“Hey.” Stan complained. “What are you tryna say?”

“That you’re a pain in my ass Stan.” I retorted with a smile. Stan grinned widely and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

“God, it’s so good to see you two together again.” Gina commented. “And Matthew’s gonna be so happy to see you again Carla. He asked after ya almost every day when ya left Jersey.”

“He really did.” Sherm added.

“I can’t believe he’s all grown up and becoming a father himself.” I admitted. Stan cleared his throat.

“Uh, does he remember Ford at all?” He asked, fidgeting with his now empty cup. Sherm wrinkled his brow as he thought.

“Probably not. Last time Ford saw him, Matthew was only 4 or 5. Doubt he’ll remember what he looked like.”

“So do we tell him or not?” Stan pressed uncertainly.

“I don’t suppose we have to...” I bit my lip, understanding Stan’s want to keep our secret from being told to everyone. Too many people and there’d too many questions asked. It was bad enough not being able to tell Gina and Sherm the whole truth.

“I think it’s better if Matthew and Emily don’t know.” Gina agreed. “Just keep calling Stanley by his brother’s name or just Stan. Matthew was too young to remember that he had TWO uncles. Let’s keep it that way for now.” I had to admire Gina’s quick thinking.

Stan sighed with relief and Sherm shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, alright. I don’t like keeping secrets from my boy though... Can you at least promise that you’ll tell us the reason for all this secrecy and double life business one day Stan?” Sherm asked.

Stan glanced at me and I nodded slightly. Turning back to his brother, Stan stood and held his hand out to Sherm.

“I promise. One day, we’ll all sit down and tell you everything.” Stan promised. Sherm locked eyes with his brother before taking his hand. A swift handshake sealed the deal.

“Ok. Time to get going.” Gina suddenly announced, pushing herself up. Stan reached out to help her and Gina slapped his hands away with a scowl.

“Don’t ya dare! I’m old, not crippled. I can still get outta chair by myself.” She scolded. I smothered a laugh as Stan gave his mom an embarrassed grin.

Rising out of my own chair, I reached out to steady Sherm as he stood and reached for his cane.

“Thanks Carla.” Sherm gave me an embarrassed smile. “Balance never was good.”

“I remember. Don’t worry.” I smiled and took a step back, Stan’s hand grabbing mine as we all made our way towards the door, as a family again.

The excitement and joy in the air was contagious and soon we were all headed to the hospital, eager to meet the newest members of our family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually just the first part of a HUGE chapter that I decided to split into 2 parts. The second part will be posted later this week. I'm still recovering so it's taken long than I thought.  
> Enjoy!


	10. August 1999- Making Up for Lost Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to Dipper and Mabel!  
> *Spoilers from the canon Journal 3 book and Gravity Falls Nintendo game, Legend of the Gnome Gemulets*

August 1999 

 

“I can’t be having with all this waiting.” Gina grumbled as she shifted in her chair.

“I’m sure we’ll hear something soon.” I assured before standing and beginning to pace. It had been several hours. Sherm and Stan had disappeared with Matthew not long after we arrived. Emily had already been in labour then. Surely the birth was close now.

“Ya wanna go get a cup of coffee and something to eat?” Gina asked, hauling herself out of the chair.

“I don’t think I could eat. I’m too excited.” I smiled as I shook my head.

“Well, I’m giving it another hour and then I’m gonna go get another cup of coffee.” Gina stopped my pacing and took hold of my hand. “I’m glad ya here Carla. And I’m glad my baby has you looking after him.”

“Couldn’t let him go through his life alone.” I answered.

“Can’t wait to hear what the full story is though, I’d like to know why ya ended up in Oregon together.” Gina said with a sparkle in her eyes.

“One day.” I smiled sadly.

“I know, I know. Ya can’t tell me yet.” She sighed. “But can ya at least tell me that my Ford is ok?”

I hesitated, torn.

How could I reassure her when Stan and I didn’t even know where Ford was?

“Gina, I can’t promise he’s ok... but I can promise Stan and I are working hard to get him back. Seriously. Neither of us have had a solid night’s sleep in the last seventeen years.” I settled on telling her that we were trying.

Gina was silent, taking in my words.

“So he’s not just gonna come back is he?” She asked quietly. “Where ever he is, it’s difficult to come back from right?”

“I’m sorry.” I replied softly. “But we will get him back.”

“I know hon. I just wanna see my boy again.” Gina sighed.

“You will.” I reassured blindly, unsure  of exactly who I was reassuring. Gina shook her head.

“I don’t think so. I don’t think I’ll see Ford again before I pass on. But I know he’ll be back.” She said.

I couldn’t think of a reply, hovering between breaking down and telling her everything or sticking to the half truths.

Before I could make up my mind, Gina blindsided me with another question.

“So how come you and Stan didn’t make me a grandma?” She asked, her eyes glittering with curiosity.

At her words, an old pain raised its head. My throat constricted and I swallowed hard against the lump forming there.

“Um, we, we just never, never seemed to find the time.” I managed to get out. I’d forgotten just how quick Gina could be, how easily she could pick up on the things you tried hard not to talk about.

Gina raised an eyebrow in disbelief, mouth opening to continue her interrogation.

Luckily for me, before she could say anything, Stan rushed into the waiting room.

“They’re here! A boy and a girl! They’re adorable!” He exclaimed, face flushed with excitement.

“Oh! I need to see them now.” Gina strode toward Stan, abandoning her questions, yet still holding my hand. “Lead the way baby.”

Stan hurried along the corridors, leading us to a small private ward where Sherm was beaming happily as a nurse fussed over a set of bassinets at the end of the bed.

Gina let go of my hand and rushed to the bassinets, cooing incomprehensible noises at the tightly swaddled babies. I walked to the side of the bed and slid my arm around the young man perched there.

“Hey Carla.” He said happily.

“Hi Matthew.” I smiled and looked past him at the exhausted young woman on the bed. “Hello Emily. Congratulations to both of you.”

“Thank you Carla. I’m sorry this is how you first meet me, I can hardly keep my eyes open.” Emily smiled tiredly, her eyes fluttering closed. Matthew leaned across and softly planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead.

“It’s alright, you can sleep now Em.” He whispered. Emily made a soft, sleepy murmur in protest.

“He’s right Emily dear. There’ll be plenty of time to get to know each other later.” I reassured as Emily’s breathing slowed.

“She did great.” Matthew smiled down at his wife. “We have our own kids now. I can’t believe it.”

“Your own little family. I still remember you when you were only a baby yourself.” I teased. Matthew chuckled and glanced down at his father and Stan elbowing each other for more room at the side of the bassinets.

“It was really great of you and uncle Stanford to travel down to see us.”

“We wouldn’t have missed meeting those two adorable little bundles for the world sweetheart.” I squeezed his shoulder and kissed his temple. “Now I’d better go and stop your father and Stan from making a scene.”  
Matthew nodded, resting his head back against the wall as I walked down to the bassinets. Gina was smiling down at one of the babies.

“They’re calling him Mason.” She said quietly. I reached in and gently stroked the side of his cheek. The baby boy stirred and opened his eyes at my touch. As his own bright blue eyes met mine, I smiled warmly.

“Welcome to the family little one.” I whispered. The boy made a burble and tilted his head toward my finger, exposing a small tuft of brown hair from under his cute little hat. I brushed the hair away, noticing the red marks underneath.

“The doctor said it might fade as he gets older.” Sherm was suddenly beside me and Gina.

“I hope it doesn’t.” Gina said. “There’s nothing wrong with having an unusual birthmark.”

“But on his forehead ma?” Sherm asked. “Where everyone can see it?”

“Nothing wrong with it.” Gina repeated firmly as I scooped the baby from the bassinet and held him close to get a closer look at the birthmark.

“It kinda looks like a constellation.” I suggested. Mason settled his eyes on mine, a serious expression on his face as I watched him.

“I think the birthmark’s a pretty fair trade for what happened as he was born.” Stan commented as he wandered over with the second baby.

“What happened?” I asked, concerned for the small child in my arms.

“Unfortunately, Mason got the cord caught round his neck,” Matthew spoke from further up the bed, “went blue. Scared us for a bit.”

“Oh god. I’m glad he’s a healthy pink colour now.” I rested a finger against Mason’s little button nose.

“Ya shoulda seen Mabel here Carla.” Stan grinned. “Bopped the doctor right on the nose! Came out a little fighter!”

“Sounds like a Pines.” I smiled.

Stan’s chest puffed out proudly as he stared down at the small bundle in his arms. I glanced across at him, not surprised to see Stan’s eyes glistening behind his glasses where tears were forming.

“Mabel and Mason Pines? Has a nice ring to it.” I commented as I took a good look at Mabel.

She was much more awake than her brother, eyes wide and focused solely on Stan. Mabel opened her mouth and let out a happy gurgle.

Stan gasped and tried to hold her even closer.

“Did you hear that Carla? She’s so small and adorable... Let’s keep her.” He said in a low voice.  I stifled a giggle.

“Don’t be ridiculous Stan. She’s Matthew’s daughter.”

“So? Quick. Sneak Mason into your coat and let’s make a break for it.” Stan suggested, with a sly grin. I rolled my eyes with a smile.

“You’re not taking my grandchildren Stan.” Sherm had walked over and was watching with a wide smile.

Stan matched his brother’s grin and shifted Mabel in his arms before extending an arm for Mason. I hesitated.

“Are you sure you can hold both of them?” I asked.

“Course. They’re tiny. It’ll be easy.” Stan encouraged. I gently placed Mason in Stan’s arm and held my breath until he was secure against Stan. Mabel gurgled again and wriggled persistently. Sherm looked alarmed and leaned forward, ready to catch her if anything happened. Mabel managed to free a soft, pudgy arm and reached for her brother. Mason looked at her and burbled in response. I reached out and gently loosened his blanket, allowing his own arm free. Mason immediately reached for his sister.

I heard a quiet sniff and caught sight of a tear running down Stan’s face. Without a word, I slipped an arm around his waist and tucked my head against his shoulder, looking down at the twins.

“Old softie.” I whispered. Stan choked out a laugh, Sherm smiling warmly.

 “Alright Stan, can I have my grandchildren back?” Sherm asked.

Stan ignored him, still transfixed by the two gorgeous babies in his arms.

“Stan?” Sherm repeated. I nudged Stan gently for a reply.

“No.”

“Stan. Hand me my grandchildren.” Sherm said, stretching his arms out.

“No. I’m not done holding them.” Stan said obstinately, half turning away. Sherm frowned.

“They’re my grandkids Stan.”

“Nope. Not anymore. I’m keeping them.”

I sighed and took a step back to get out of the way. Gina was suddenly at my side, tutting.

“Glad to see they haven’t changed.” She muttered as Stan tried to keep the children out of Sherm’s reach.

“Stanford!”

“Sherman!”

Matthew joined Gina and I, peering over our shoulders.

“What’s Stanford doing?” He asked.

“Don’t worry hon. Stan won’t let them fall.” Gina reassured, “He never let you fall when he held you up like that.”

Matthew gave Gina an alarmed glance but didn’t reply, watching Stan with a worried look.

“Stanford! Give me those children!” Sherm was breathing heavily, one hand resting against his left leg.

“Ok, ok. This is ridiculous.” I sighed and stepped forward to grab Stan’s arm gently. “Come on Stan, we’ll have plenty of time to see these kids another day.”

“But, but...” Stan protested, giving me a pleading look. I squeezed his arm reassuringly. Stan sagged a little.

“Fine. Here ya go Sherm. They’re beautiful.” Stan said quietly, handing the children back to Sherm carefully.

“Thank you.” Sherm held the babies close and moved to sit on the edge of the bed with them. Stan sighed and I squeezed his hand.

“You ok?” I whispered.

“Yeah. Just seeing them, already reaching for each other...”

Stan sighed again and fell silent.

“You wanna leave for today?” I asked quietly. Stan looked hesitant.

“Wouldn’t that look, I dunno, a bit rude?”

“I don’t think they’ll mind. Poor Emily’s already asleep, Matthew look’s dead on his feet, and the rest of us are running on coffee alone. They’ll understand.” I pointed out.

Stan rubbed the back of his neck, still unsure.

“I guess...”

“Once Emily is out of the hospital, we’ll go and visit them all at home.” I smiled. “We’ve got a few more days here.”

“Ok.” Stan nodded before leaning over to tap his mom on the shoulder. “Ma, me and Carla, we’re gonna head back to the hotel. Been a long day ya know?”

Gina smiled warmly at him.

“Ya telling me Stanford.” She said pointedly. I fought the urge to snort.

“But go on baby. Go and rest up. We’ll see you tomorrow ok?” Gina continued, her tone making sure there was no arguing with her.

“Absolutely ma.” Stan smiled.

“We’ll see you tomorrow ok Sherm?” I said, walking over to him.

“Hmm? Oh, you’re leaving? Already?” Sherm asked, tearing his eyes away from the sleeping children in his arms.

“Yeah. But we’ll be back.” Stan joined us, taking hold of my hand, “We wanna see plenty of these two before we go home.” He gently stroked the curl of brown hair falling across Mabel’s forehead.

“Well, alright then,” Sherm glanced between us, a happy smile on his face, “it’s been great having you both here today.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world Sherm.” I smiled back and kissed Sherm’s cheek.

“You guys are leaving already?”

I turned to see both Matthew and Emily watching us. Matthew looked downcast.

“I hardly got to talk to you Carla.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart. We’ll come see you the minute all four of you are settled at home ok?” I reassured, hugging the young man tightly.

“You promise?” He asked, sounding painfully like the boy I’d left behind in Glass Shard Beach.

“Absolutely. I want to hear everything you’ve done in the last seventeen years.” I grinned as I pulled away. “Not to mention I need to get to know your beautiful wife.”

Emily laughed quietly.

“I suppose it is easier to do that when she’s not recovering from giving birth.” Emily joked as I leaned across to hug her.

“Definitely. Now you enjoy these last few precious moments of sleep ok?” I added as I let go of her.

“Wise words.” Emily muttered as she turned to Stan. “It was great to meet you for the first time Stan.”

“Ah, you too kid.” Stan flashed her a winning smile. “Ya did great today.”

I smothered a laugh under my breath as Matthew chuckled to himself. Gina just rolled her eyes with a patient smile.

“Thanks Stan.” Emily smiled back.

“Em’s right Stan. It’s been great seeing you again.” Matthew smiled.

“Worth the travel to see how ya’ve grown up Matthew.” Stan offered his hand and Matthew took it happily. “Congratulations on the twins son. They’re gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” Matthew flushed up to his ears, a trait I was delighted to note he shared with both his father and uncles.

“We’ll see you tomorrow.” I waved as Stan and I walked away.

Making our way back out through the corridors, I kept the picture of Emily, Matthew, Sherm and Gina all clustered together with the twins in my head. A dull ache had settled in my chest since we’d met the twins... now it was kicking to make itself heard. Gina’s question earlier, holding Mason, seeing Stan react with such love to those two children... It was almost too much too bear.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts as we entered the hospital’s foyer again, only to find Stan had been talking to me.

“- and she seems nice enough, but I’m thinking there’s gonna be a lot of questions from both her and Matthew, and, hey. Baby? Ya with me?” Stan glanced down at me in concern.

“Yes. Just tired. That’s all.” I bluffed uselessly. Stan would no doubt figure out what was bothering me, he always did, but I decided to press on anyway. “So, are you glad I convinced you to come to California then?”

Stan gave me a dubious look before answering.

“Yeah. If just for those kids alone, it was worth it.” He smiled. “But Sherm got old though. Dunno what I was expecting but, god he’s so, so... so old!”

“Look who’s talking?” I teased, reaching up to ruffle Stan’s greying hair.

“Hey. Watch it miss.” Stan complained half-heartedly as we walked across the car park. “Get your butt in the car.”

“Yes dear.” I simpered sarcastically and slid into the passenger seat.

“What was Sherm like when he first came back?” Stan asked as he got into the car. I chewed my lip as I thought.

“Honestly? I think if he hadn’t had your ma and little Matthew, he might not have made it this far. He was pretty badly traumatised by what he’d gone through. Getting his new leg helped as well. He didn’t feel so limited anymore.” I eventually said as Stan started the car.

“God, I can’t imagine him like that. He was always the strong one.”

“War changes people Stan. I saw a lot of people we knew come back from Vietnam as changed people. Some of them never recovered.”

“I wish I coulda been there for him.” Stan said quietly. I smiled sympathetically and reached across to rest a hand on his thigh.

“You can be now. For him, for Matthew, for your mom, for those adorable kids.”

“Heh, yeah, Yeah. I can be. Let’s go get them some toys.” Stan perked right back up at his idea.

“You wanna go to a toy store?” I asked, smiling but feeling that dull ache redouble its efforts. Stan and I hadn’t set foot in a toy store since ’84, with good reason. Not mention money always seemed a little tight. Stan hated to spend money on anything that wasn’t essential, so those twins really must have affected him.

“Yeah, I mean, I know we’re not gonna see them all that much, so I don’t wanna leave without giving them something us to remember us by ya know?” Stan glanced across at me.

I swallowed hard, bringing both hands to twist together in my lap. That old, dark swirl of emotion threatened to overwhelm me.

“Carla, baby? Ya ok?” Stan reached across and stilled me hands.

“I – I’m fine,” I said, my voice wavering.

“Like hell ya are. Is this about whatever ya were thinking about at the hospital?” Stan asked, eyes back on the road.

“No.” I protested uselessly. “Yes.”

“Knew it. Come on, spill it.” Stan prompted.

Emily and Matthew, they were so happy... and you were smitten with those kids, and your mom asked me early why we didn’t have kids and,” I sighed and tugged my hands away from Stan’s hand, “I couldn’t help thinking about what it would’ve been like if we’d been able to-”

“Don’t. Don’t even think about it. Not again.” Stan interrupted. “We both knew it wasn’t gonna happen and well, we made our peace with it.”

“But I know you. You always wanted kids. You were so good with Matthew when he was little, and today, god today! You were so taken with Mabel and Mason, you’d have been a brilliant father and I couldn’t give you that.” I knew I was babbling but I couldn’t reel it back in. “I ruined that chance for you. If I hadn’t come back into your life, you’d have met someone else, she’d have been able to give you kids and who knows what your life would’ve been like,”

“Jesus Carla.” Stan muttered before checking for somewhere to pull over. Parking the car quickly, Stan turned to face me. I stared resolutely at my lap, holding back tears.

“Baby, I did want kids. Always did.”

A soft, choked sob escaped me, a single tear rolling down my face.

“BUT, I only ever wanted them with you.” Stan continued, reaching out to rest a hand on my shoulder. “If I couldn’t have kids with you, I didn’t want them anymore. Besides, how the hell would we have brought kids up in Gravity Falls? Forget stranger danger, we’d have had to teach them to look out for gnomes or sentient tree hands! It would’ve been a nightmare.”

I snorted, despite the melancholy lying over me. Stan always knew what to say at the right moment.

“I suppose you’re right.” I sighed, rubbing my eyes and looking over at Stan. “I know it’s just wishful thinking, I do. We’ve known for years it wasn’t a possibility and we did make our peace with it, but,”

“But ya always wonder right?” Stan broke in with a soft smile. “Ya think I haven’t thought about it? I even considered robbing a bank for the money we’d need for that fancy fertility treatment, but I knew ya’d be mad.”

I laughed, the noise chasing away the last of my tears. Stan looked relieved.

“You know, maybe it’s a good thing we didn’t have kids,” I smiled, “you’d have been a terrible influence on them.”

Stan let out a bark of laughter as he squeezed my shoulder.

“Ya probably right baby.” He chuckled as he started the car again. “And you’re wrong ya know.”

“About what?” I asked, still thinking about all the ridiculous trouble Stan could’ve gotten our children into.

“About not having kids.” Stan was staring out at the road again. “Ya’ve damn near raised half the kids in Gravity Falls. Any one of those terrors would love to call ya mom.”

Tears threatened to fall again as Stan’s words. I sniffed and wiped my eyes again, causing Stan to groan.

“Come on baby, don’t get sappy on me again.”

“I can’t help it. I’m a Pines.” I mumbled from behind my hands.

Stan chuckled.

“That joke wasn’t funny the first time ya said it.” He teased. I lifted my head and stuck my tongue out at him, the childish gesture making both of us laugh more.

“So, ya still up to visit a toy store?” Stan asked, reaching out to take hold of my hand again. Lifting the back of his hand to my mouth, I pressed a soft kiss against the warm skin.

“Yes. Let’s go and find those adorable tots something amazing.” I said softly, absolute love for the man next to me just washing through me.

“That’s my girl.” Stan said, shooting me a killer smile.

Maybe we didn’t have children of our own, I thought as we made our way through unfamiliar

streets, but we did have our own family of two, with more than enough love to share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon Facts:  
> *Dipper's real name is Mason (in Journal 3)  
> ** Mabel really did punch the doctor in the nose and Dipper did come out blue (mentioned in the Nintendo 3ds game "Legend of the Gnome Gemulets)  
> *** Stan was there for the twins birth (also mentioned in the Nintendo 3ds game)  
> Noncanon:  
> *Sherm lost his left leg in Vietnam and also suffered with PTSD/Depression  
> **Carla suffered from fertility problems (discovered in late 1984 after suffering with a bad miscarriage)


	11. October 2001 - Well, This Happened

2001

 

Hearing the commotion outside, I looked up from my book.

“Get outta here you bum!” It was Stan who was yelling.

Getting up from the stool behind the counter, I peered out the window. Stan was standing with his back to the shack, hands on hips as a ragged looking young man stormed away with an angry expression.

“I wonder what that was about.” I muttered, returning to the counter. Within minutes, Stan came through the main door, grumbling away to himself and unbuttoning his jacket.

“Well, that’s the last of them for the day.” He said, flipping the door sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’.

“I heard,” I remarked with a smile, “made a lot of racket too. What happened out there?”

“Eh, tried to get out of paying... lousy hippy.” Stan muttered. I snorted and closed my book.

“It doesn’t matter now, you sent him packing,” I said, walking over and planting a kiss on his cheek, “so we can relax and enjoy our evening.”

Stan automatically slid an arm around me and hugged me close, relaxing with a sigh.

A sudden clatter on the front porch made me jump.

“Stan... what’s that?” I asked, peering at the door suspiciously.

“Oh yeah. We have a goat now.” Stan gave me an embarrassed look. “Instead of paying with money like an normal person, that guy tried to give me a goat instead.”

I blinked a few times, trying to understand Stan’s logic here.

“So you kept the goat and tossed him out?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You realise you let him pay you with a goat still, right?”

Stan looked at me with a blank stare, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he worked it out.

“Damn.” He cursed. “I’m an idiot aren’t I?”

I laughed and patted his chest playfully. Stan never failed to make me laugh, even if it did mean we now had an extra mouth to feed.

“Yes... but you’re my idiot Stan. Besides, I always wanted a pet.” I joked as I ducked under his arm and walked toward the door, eager to get a look at whatever was on the other side of the door.

“We’re not keeping it Carla,” Stan called after me, “It’s going to that farmer down the road. We don’t need a goat! I’ll get ya a puppy or something.”  
Ignoring Stan I opened the door slowly. Stepping out onto the porch, I saw the cutest little goat I’d ever seen chewing determinedly on the admissions sign.

“Awww. Stan! It’s adorable.” I cooed as I sank to my knees in front of the goat. The goat bleated at me and ambled over, still chewing.

“Don’t let that thing bite you Carla.” Stan warned from behind me. “It could be diseased.”

“Weren’t you the one who had a pet possum? Pretty sure they carry more diseases than goats.” I quipped as I patted the goat’s head softly, receiving a quiet nickering in return. Moving slowly, I gently scooped the little goat up into my arms and stood.

“Look at that little face Stan!” I held the goat up to Stan. “It’s adorable! We have to keep it.”

Stan folded his arms and glared at me.

“Urgh, no thanks. It’ll probably try to eat us while we sleep or something.”

The goat bleated and nibbled my jacket collar.

“Aww... are you hungry little fella? Yes, you can chew on my collar.” I babbled, still smiling happily.

“Holy Moses Carla.” Stan sighed in defeat and turned away. “Fine, It can stay. But If I catch it inside-”

Before Stan could finish his sentence, the goat wriggled out of my arms and cantered into the shop.

“Dammit!” Stan cursed and ran after it.

“Don’t scare the poor thing!” I cried, following him. Slamming the door shut behind me, Stan and I paused in the gift shop, listening for the goat.

“If it breaks anything...” Stan muttered.

“Shush, I think I hear it over there.” I pointed toward the rack of t-shirts. Approaching slowly, Stan grabbed the 8-Ball cane that was leaning on the counter.

“Don’t you dare!” I hissed, eyes wide with concern. Stan gave me a confused look before realization dawned.

“I’m just gonna use it to move the shirts.” He replied. My mouth made an o-shape in understanding and I moved to stand to one side as Stan used the cane to push the coat hangers to one side.

“Awww.” I breathed. The goat was industrially chewing a shirt, curled up on its legs inside the rack.

“Oh great. It likes to eat the merchandise.” Stan grumbled.

“It’s only one shirt.” I waved a hand and scooped the little goat up again. “They probably need real food.”

“How would you know that?” Stan asked, leaning on the cane.

“Look at this little guy. He’s tiny, just a baby. I doubt they’re more than a few months old.” I walked through to the living room.

“Aw come on! Don’t bring it inside Carla.” Stan protested.

“I can’t hear you.” I called back in a sing-song voice.

Placing the goat down on the front room rug, I smiled as it sniffed around for a while before settling in the corner.

“Do we have any leftover food we can give them?” I asked Stan. Stan rolled his eyes and walked past into the kitchen.

“I’ll check.” He said.

I sat in the recliner and watched the cute little goat sniff the floor. Stan came back through with some bread, an apple and crackers.

“What? I have no idea what goats eat.” He admitted as I looked at him skeptically.

“Fair enough.” I took the bread after a few moments thought. “We will have to ask someone in town tomorrow. Someone around here should know.”

I held a chunk of the bread out, the little goat trotting over and wolfing it down eagerly. Stan smiled and offered the apple.

The goat bleated for a while before Stan realised the problem and dropped it on the ground. The goat sniffed the apple and nudged it, trying to find a good angle to get a bite. I frowned.

“I don’t think they can eat it whole.”

Stan sighed and picked the apple up, much to the goat’s disappointment.

“I’m too damn soft.” Stan grumbled before biting into the apple, tearing out a chunk and spitting it back out for the goat.

“Aw! You’re like a mamma bird.” I teased as the goat nosily chomped on the apple chunk. Stan grimaced as he continued to bite the apple into manageable pieces for the baby goat.

“I’m gonna pretend ya didn’t say that.”

Within minutes, the apple was gone.

As the goat began to sniff around again, I tilted my head awkwardly.

“Boy or girl do ya reckon?” Stan asked after realising what I was doing.

“Boy. I think... Probably best to take him to someone who knows more than we do.” I replied.

The goat wandered back to Stan and head butted his knee with an impatient bleat.

“Whaddya want ya monster?” Stan complained as the goat fixed him with a slotted, yellow eyed stare.

“Told you. He thinks you’re his mamma now.” I fought the urge to laugh.

Stan grunted and tried to shove the little goat away with his knee. The goat refused to be deterred, returning back to Stan’s side almost immediately.

“Admit it. You like him.” I teased, watching Stan crouch down to pat the goat with a look of reluctant defeat.

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan waved a hand at me. “You were right. He’s adorable.”

“What do we want to call him?” I asked, curling up on the recliner. “He’s gonna need a name.”

“Why you asking me? I have a terrible history of naming animals.”

“What? I always thought Shanklin the Possum was a great name!” I smiled, glad that Stan had changed his tune about the little guy now nuzzling his hand.

Stan sighed and tugged his tie off, which the goat immediately began to sniff. I laughed as the goat began to chew it vigorously.  
“Hey! Give me that!” Stan tugged his tie, but the goat wasn’t having it. It bleated and pulled away, tearing the tie in two.

“You little monster.” Stan said half-heartedly.

“I love this little monster.” I commented. Stan rolled his eyes.

“Of course ya do. How can I win? I guess we’re keeping him then.”

“Really? You don’t mind?” I asked.

“Yeah. Can’t have my best girl mad at me now can I?” Stan winked as he returned to patting the young goat softly as it finished off his tie. “Ya know, he’s certainly got a healthy appetite. Noisy eater though.” Stan raised an eyebrow.

“Sounds familiar.” I jibed. Stan pulled a face.

“Listen to those teeth go,” He said with a faint smile, “I don’t sound like that do I?”

I wrinkled my nose.

“Sometimes. Especially since you got your teeth sorted. It honestly sounds like chomp, chomp at times.”

Stan had turned red at this, still slightly uncomfortable with the new set of dentures in his mouth. I hurried to reassure him.

“But I don’t care! It’s not that bad, honest! Besides, you have an even more dashing smile now.” I winked and Stan smiled.

“Good ta know ya don’t mind a man with fake chompers.” He joked before jolting forward slightly. “Wait. Chompers...”

“What?” I was lost. “What about your chompers?”

“Not mine. His!” Stan pointed at the goat who was now sniffing and nibbling the side of the old television. “He chews loudly, it sounds like chomping, he’s got a good set of teeth... or chompers. But he’s a a goat! So take the G, combine it with the chomping noise he makes and what do ya have?”

“A headache?” I replied with a grin, enjoying Stan’s crazy logic.

“No doll. Ya get Gompers!” Stan crowed triumphantly, loud enough to startle the goat who gave an indignant bleat.

“Whaddya think little fella?” Stan asked, “How does Gompers sound?”

The goat ambled over and head butted Stan’s knee in a friendly enough sort of way before awkwardly folding his legs under himself. Stan stroked Gomper’s back as the baby goat fell asleep.

“I guess we’re calling him Gompers then.” I conceded.

It really wasn’t a bad name, and Stan did have a talent for making up original names... How could I protest it?

Stan waited until he was certain Gompers was fast asleep before standing and stretching.

“So now we have a goat. Great.” He said with a grin.

“And you’re smitten with him.” I smiled.

Stan walked over and leaned down to kiss my forehead.

“Alright, alright. I am. Though he’s not living in the house all the time. I’m drawing a line in the sand about that.” He said. I nodded.

“Fair enough. He can live on the back porch, it’ll be sheltered there for him.”

“Good idea.” Stan nodded. “I knew I married you for a reason.”

Gompers snorted and kicked his legs slightly.

“I think we may have a kid...” Stan whispered with a stupid grin.

I groaned and rolled my eyes exaggeratedly.

“You did not just say that... “ I punched him lightly with a mock grimace. “You and stupid puns.”

Stan just grinned and sauntered back out of the room.  
“What are we going to do with him huh Gompers?” I asked quietly, a smile playing around my lips.


	12. July 2004 - Our Weird Little Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YOUNG SOOS!!! Cute fluff :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, for those if us who aren't American, bolonga sounds like baloney.   
> That always confused me so I thought I would just clarify :)

July 2004 

Carla, baby!” Stan hollered. “You seen my pants?”

I sighed and leaned out of the bathroom.

“Check the front room.” I called back. Hearing Stan grumbling to himself as he walked past, I turned back to the mirror.

Scrunching my face up in the mirror, I sighed.

“When did I get so old?” I murmured, dragging the brush through my hair. The rich chocolate brown that had been my pride and joy when I was younger, had faded and was slowly replaced by a dull silver.

I should really get it cut, I thought to myself, get rid of any colour left and just go grey gracefully.

“Want me to braid it?” Stan suddenly appeared behind me. I smiled as he rested his hands on my shoulders.

“Yes please sweetheart.” I handed him the brush.

Stan quickly began to brush my hair back into three sections before starting to braid it. I closed my eyes with a contented smile, a memory rising unbidden in my head.

“Remember the first time you braided my hair?” I asked. Stan chuckled.

“Yup. Pretty sure it was terrible.”

“It wasn’t that bad...” I laughed, opening my eyes, “Besides, you’ve gotten much better.”

Stan reached out and grabbed the hair elastic from the bathroom sink.

Wrapping the elastic around the end of the braid, Stan kissed the top of my head softly.

“Only because we got a second chance baby.” Stan smiled as he met my eyes in the mirror. I reached up and laid a hand against his cheek.

“I’d do it all again husband-mine.” I replied. Stan covered my hand with his, our rings bumping together in the silence of the house. I could’ve stayed like that for hours, but Stan broke the silence first.

“Come on Mrs Pines, we’ve got tourists to scam.” He said before patting my ass playfully.

“I’ll be there soon. Make sure Gompers isn’t in the shop again!” I called after him.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Stan hollered back.

Smiling, I pulled the braid over my shoulder. The memory of that summer’s day in the Barrens filled my mind.

I remembered the smell of salt in the air, the gulls calling and the hot wood of the boat burning my legs as Stan had eagerly braided my damp hair. He’d been so excited to do it, so proud when he finished it... I hadn’t even cared later when I had to spend half an hour at home untangling the knots he’d caused.

Shaking my head lightly, I twisted the braid up into a coil at the back of my head. Ramming a few bobby pins into the edges, I checked to make sure it was secure.

Sliding the last pin into place, I smiled at my reflection.

“Not bad for 52.” I whispered.

Turning to leave the bathroom, I spotted Stan’s pants draped over the edge of the bath tub.

“Daft old man.” I sighed, shaking my head with a smile. “What would he do without me?”

Grabbing his pants, I walked out of the bathroom to the kitchen.

“Forget something Stan?” I asked, holding his pants up.

“Oh, right. Guess I need them.” Stan chuckled. I shrugged.

“Maybe. Can’t have Mr Mystery running around with no pants on.” I smiled. Stan laughed and quickly pulled his pants on before grabbing his mug from the counter.

“Coffee’s fresh. Meet you in the shop.” Stan said as he walked past me.

Grabbing a mug, I poured myself some coffee. Glancing out the window, I sighed as a gnome scurried across the lawn being chased by Gompers.

“Good goat.” I whispered, glad that I didn’t have to chase that gnome myself. Walking over to the fridge, I grimaced when I saw the state of it.

“One sad, wrinkly apple, a squashed tomato, opened tins with God knows what inside, leftovers, half a bottle of syrup, ketchup, a dribble of milk and a fuzzy colony of whozits growing on whatever that used to be... Guess I’m going grocery shopping later.”

Sighing, I turned back to the bench to find Stan had left the last of the bread, butter and jam on the counter for me.

“At least I can have breakfast.” I muttered as I began to make my toast.

 

I was just finishing my second piece of toast when a teenager wearing a Mystery Shack shirt wandered in. Swallowing my mouthful, I smiled at him.

“Hello Soos dear.”

“Hey Mrs Pines.” Soos smiled, straightening up as he looked at me.

“You’re here early today.” I finished my coffee off and stood.

“Haha, yeah. It’s cleaning day at home and Abuelita wanted me out.” Soos scratched the back of his hand nervously as he stood there, a habit I noticed he’d picked up from Stan. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all hon. You want something to eat?” I asked, ruffling his hair fondly. “There’s leftover pizza in the fridge.”

“Aw yes! You’re the greatest Mrs Pines!” Soos beamed and opened the fridge.

“Not a problem hon. Can’t have our handyman going hungry.”

Soos sat at the table and began to eat in earnest.

“You come and join me in the shop when you’re done ok?” I asked as I walked toward the door.

“Sure thing Mrs Pines.” Soos mumbled cheerfully through a mouthful of pizza.

 

Stan was busy checking prices when I entered the gift shop.

“Did Soos come and say hello to you?” He asked, without turning around.

“Yes. That boy’s so lovely.” I commented, tucking my arm through his.

“He’s a pest.” Stan grumbled. I smiled and patted his arm.

“You don’t mean that. He’s been helping us out for the last two years. You like him.”

“Yeah, well...” Stan looked down at me. “He’s better than the last guy we had helping us.”

“Agreed.” I smiled and headed over to the counter.

What do you need me to do today Mr Pines?” Soos had come into the gift shop.

“Meh. Just keep out of my way kid.” Stan muttered and walked out onto the porch.

“Yes sir!” Soos called after him with an eager salute. The door simply slammed in response.

I shook my head, smiling. Soos was such a sweetheart and Stan could be so grumpy at times.

“Do you have anything you want me to do today Mrs Pines?” Soos piped up.

“Oh hon, you don’t have to do anything for me.” I said, hopping onto the stool behind the counter.

“But I like being helpful dude,” Soos suddenly clapped his hands over his mouth, face going red, “Sorry Mrs Pines, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t worry Soos! You can call me Mrs Pines, Carla, dued, whatever you feel like ok?” I reassured with a smile.

Soos lowered his hands and gave me a shy smile, his cheeks still glowing.

A babble of voices was suddenly audible from outside.

I leaned back and glanced out of the window. A tour bus was visible. The first customers for the Mystery Shack today. It was going to be a busy summer’s day.

“Guess we’re in for a full day.” I sighed.

“Don’t worry Mrs Pines,” Soos leaned on the counter, “you’ve got me to help you. And Mr Pines is real good at what he does.”

“Thank you hon. I suppose Mr Pines is good at what he does.” I replied, listening to Stan launch into his well-rehearsed tourist introduction as Mr Mystery.

“You want me to sweep up in here?” Soos asked, “Or help restock the shelves?”

I jolted forward at that.

Last time Soos had helped with stocking shelves, half of the shelves had collapsed and smashed our merchandise to pieces. Stan had managed to hold it together until a miserable Soos had left, but he’d exploded and ranted about firing Soos for hours. Until a painstakingly glued together Mystery Mug was found on Stan’s desk in the office the next day. Stan never mentioned it, but I knew he still had that mug tucked away in the safe.

Probably best not to repeat the entire ordeal again.

“No!’ I said loudly, a little too loudly. “I mean, no thank you hon. There won’t be much to until lunchtime anyway.”

“That’s cool dude. You got anything I could maybe, ya know, fix?” Soos held up a red-handled screwdriver.

My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the tool in his hand, but I forced a smile on my face. Soos was only trying to help, and any problem he fixed would probably lead to him causing more problems he would then spend time fixing... he’d be keeping himself busy and entertained for quite some time.

“Well, you can take a look around. But stay out of Stan’s way and don’t fiddle with anything electrical.” I warned.

“You got it dude.” Soos waved as he ambled toward the curtained section of the shop. “Soos awwaaayy!” He yelled.

“And don’t let Gompers eat your shirt again!” I called after him.

As the sound of Soos’ footsteps faded away, I bumped open the cash register and made quick work of counting the day’s base cash.

Flicking through the bills, my mind wandered back to the red handled screwdriver.

How had Soos gotten hold of it? Had Stan left it lying around again? Or had he given it to Soos on purpose?

I made a mental note to ask Stan about it.

At least we could be grateful for the fact that the screwdriver didn’t have F. Pines etched onto it like many of the other tools stashed away in the house.

Out of habit, I glanced at the vending machine.

No.

Not the time to start thinking about the basement. Daylight hours were for scamming tourists.

Replacing the cash in the register drawer, I spotted the squashed post-it note stuck to the side of the counter.

_“Hey Hotstuff._

_Closing early today. Explain later._

_Love ya, S._

_P.S. Nice ass x”_

I snorted, smiling as I pocketed the note before settling in the the morning.

 

X  


Lunchtime finally rolled around, tour number five finally leaving.

Stan grinned and waved until the last car pulled away before turning to face me with a sigh, his grin dropping and body sagging as he relaxed. I stood and stretched.

“Finally. Time to breathe again.” I offered.

Stan nodded, unbuttoning his jacket as he sauntered over to the counter. Walking around to him, I lifted his arm and draped it over my shoulder, snuggling into his side. Stan huffed contentedly.

“Is the kid still here?” He asked.

“Yeah. He was out back with Gompers.” I closed my eyes briefly as I rested against Stan. “He helped me make lunch you know. He really is a sweet kid.”

“Uh huh.” Stan had his own eyes closed. “Lunch huh? Well, don’t want to disappoint the little gremlin. Let’s go eat.”

“You’re such an old softie, you know that right?” I teased, slipping out from under Stan’s arm to hang the “Back in 20 minutes” sign on the door.

“What?” Stan shrugged, feigning disinterest.

“You act like this grumpy old man who couldn’t care less about Soos being here, but you love that kid. I know you do.”

Stan grumbled unconvincingly, a sweet pink flush spreading over his cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Ya better not tell the kid that. Don’t need him hanging around here more than he already does.”

I drew a finger across my mouth, miming a locking action as I smiled at him.

Stan rolled his eyes at my action and strode over to the curtained doorway, me not far behind him.

Entering the living room, we found Soos sitting in the old recliner and drumming his feet against it as he watched the tv screen.

“Hey. Get outta my chair kid.” Stan complained.

Soos immediately leapt out of the chair with an accommodating smile and I pinched Stan’s arm lightly in retaliation.

“Grumpy.” I muttered as Soos turned off the tv. Before Stan could reply to me, Soos was facing us again.

“You guys ready for lunch?” he asked, his smile becoming impossibly wider.

“Absolutely hon. Lead the way.” I smiled back.

“Awesome!”

Soos hurried out of the room, Stan and I following him.

“Be nice.” I whispered to Stan as we entered the kitchen to find Soos fussing over plates, glasses and sandwiches on the table. Soos was slowly pouring water into the glasses from a pitcher, concentration etched on his face.

“Looks great kid.” Stan said gruffily, patting Soos’ shoulder as he sat down.

“Really?” Soos beamed, lowering the pitcher of water.

“Yeah. What are we having?”

“Well, Mrs Pines mentioned she had to go grocery shopping, so I offered to go get some stuff for lunch. I got bologna, the best of the lunch meats.” Soos explained as he placed a sandwich on each of the plates at the table. “Do you like bologna sandwiches Mr Pines?”

Stan pulled a face as though he was thinking over the question, taking a big bite of his sandwich.

Poor Soos watched, eyes hopeful, as Stan chewed his mouthful. I rolled my eyes at Stan’s antics and squeezed Soos’ shoulder softly as I sat at the table.

“So? What’s your answer Mr Pines?” I asked, taking pity on the young boy so eager to please, currently wringing his shirt anxiously.

Stan glanced at Soos’ pinched face before shooting me a sly wink.

“I love bologna kid.”

Soos visibly relaxed, jumping into the chair opposite Stan before grabbing his own sandwich.

I lifted my glass to my mouth, washing down my mouthful of sandwich as I listened to Soos and Stan chattering away.

“How’d the tours go Mr Pines?”

“Pretty good kid. Managed to rip off a whole bus load of suckers. Hah!”

I placed my glass back down and smacked the back of Stan’s head lightly.

“What?” Stan gave me a sheepish look when he caught sight of my stern face.

“Isn’t that, kinda, wrong Mr Pines?” Soos asked uncertainly.

Stan rubbed the back off his neck, understanding why I’d reprimanded him.

“Ah, well, see the thing is...” Stan sighed when he caught sight of Soos’ wide, innocent eyes watching him. “Yeah kid, it’s wrong. But! But, it’s only illegal if ya get caught. If there aren’t cops around, anything is legal!”

I sighed tiredly, resting my forehead in my hand. Maybe it really was a good thing Stan and I never had children of our own. Stan was going to lead Soos right down the path of corruption.

Soos still seemed worried.

“But, but, what if the tourists don’t deserve to be ripped off?”

“Kid, come on. Ya’ve seen the attractions. Ya can tell they’re fake. Anyone who believes otherwise deserves to get ripped off.”

Soos frowned down at his sandwich. Stan glanced at me for help and I shook my head stubbornly. Stan was going to have to fix this all by himself.

“Soos, kid, this whole place was set up for us to make money. No one would ever buy a useless hunk of glass unless I could convince them it was some sorta ancient, magical crystal ya know?” Stan tried again. “It’s like telling stories. The crazier and fantastical it is, the more people wanna believe it. I mean, who doesn’t want to believe in mermaids?”

“Even if it is just a dead fish butt sewn to a dead monkey body?” Soos added, looking back up at Stan.

“Yeah! But for a moment, people believe it’s a mermaid. That’s the real magic of this place. That’s what people are really getting. And ya can’t put a price on that.” Stan finished, a cocky grin slipping back into place. “But if ya coluld, it would be exactly the price of admission, not including money spent at the giftshop. People want to take a little piece of the magic back with them.”

“But nobody gets hurt right?” Soos asked. Stan made a I-guess-not gesture with his hand, waggling it back and forth.

“Only their wallets kid. But they don’t realise that until they are far away from the place. ‘Cause what do we do?” Stan gestured at both Soos and I to answer him.

“We put the ‘fun’ in ‘no refunds’ folks!” Soos and I chimed in together with matching smiles.

Stan laughed and slapped the table.

“You two should try that in the shop. Tourists would go ga-ga for it!” He chuckled, downing his glass of water. I pursed my lips and tried not to laugh.

Soos hopped down from the table and began to gather our plates, apparently satisfied with Stan’s ‘explanation’.

“Oh you don’t need to do that hon.” I stood and walked over to the sink where Soos had begun to run water.

“Don’t worry Mrs Pines. I don’t mind.”

“Well how ‘bout you come grocery shopping with me this afternoon?” I asked, leaning back against the counter.

“Sure thing! I can carry all the heavy items for you!” Soos agreed happily. I smiled and ruffled his hair affectionately, looking up to find Stan watching us with a sentimental grin on his face. I shook my head slightly and glanced at my watch.

“You better get back in the shop. Tourists will be showing up again soon.” I told him.

Stan nodded, getting to his feet and dusting himself down for crumbs.

“Careful. Don’t make the water too hot hon.” I warned Soos as I followed Stan back out to the living room.

“And you,” I caught the back of his jacket, “no more telling kids about the dubious morality of this business.”

Stan grinned sheepishly.

“I fixed it didn’t I?”

“Only just.”

I straightened the lapels of his jacket, resting my fingertips against Stan’s broad chest.

“You still haven’t told me why you decided to close early.”

Stan grinned.

“Later doll. Just make sure you and the kid are back by 3 ok?”

“Sure thing love.” I reached up on tiptoe and pecked Stan’s lips just a crash came from the kitchen, followed by Soos’ voice.

“Oh. Sorry dudes!”

Stan chuckled quietly and I groaned, thumping my head against his chest.

“Have fun with the kid doll.” Stan rested his hand on my shoulder before making his escape.

 

X

 

Stan wasn’t in the house when Soos and I returned from the supermarket.

“Do you want me to put these away Mrs Pines?” Soos asked, hoisting the two paper bags higher in his arms.

“No that’s ok dear. Just leave them on the counter.” I glanced around the kitchen, spooting a lone piece of paper on the table.

“Ok. Were there any left in the car?” Soos asked, radiating helpfulness.

“Yeah. Just the one. Do you mind running and getting it for me?” I asked, picking the paper up.

“Sure thing dude.” Soos wandered out of the kitchen as I read the note.

_“Outside, back porch. Bring the kid. Love S.”_

“What is he planning?” I muttered, crossing to the back door and opening it.

Stan was sitting on the steps, jacket and dress shirt off, drinking a soda. Rapping my knuckles against the wood to get his attention, I wandered over and sat next to him.

“So. Why did we close early?” I asked.

“I had this idea, sort of...” Stan mumbled. I nudged him softly.

“What aren’t you telling me mister?”

Before Stan could answer, I heard Soos back in the kitchen.

“Hey! Where’d you go Mrs Pines?”

“Out back hon!” I called back, still watching Stan.

“Oh. Hey Mr Pines.”

“Hey kid. Ya wanna soda?” Stan offered Soos a drink, holding it up without turning.

“Sure thing Mr Pines.” Soos took the offered drink and carefully stepped round Stan to sit on the grass in front of the stairs.

All three of us sat in silence for a while, until Stan finished his soda. Placing the empty can down on the porch, Stan reached down and pulled his old boxing gloves onto his lap.

“Here. Catch kid.” He tossed them at Soos with a light grunt. Poor Soos only had a few moments to realse what was happening. Fumbling with the gloves, Soos dropped them.

Stan grumbled.

“Come on kid. Pick ‘em up and we’ll get started.”

I glanced between Stan and Soos, realisation dawning.

“You’re going to teach Soos how to box?” I asked quietly, leaning toward Stan.

“Yeah. Figured it would give him something to do this summer.” Stan replied, standing and moving to show Soos how to put the gloves on.

“You’re really gonna teach me Mr Pines?” Soos asked, looking up from his now gloved hands.

“Yeah. Now hold ya hands up, like this.” Stan demonstrated.

“Dude. These are really heavy.” Soos screwed his face up.

“They’re meant ta be ya knucklehead. Strengthens ya arms and gives ya more power behind the punch. Now focus.” Stan ordered.

I smiled proudly as Stan started to instruct Soos in the basics of posture and stance.

As Stan showed Soos how to form a basic straight punch, I cleared my throat.

“You may have forgotten something dear.” I interrupted. Stan narrowed his eyes at me in confusion.

“What?”

“I’ll be right back.” I excused, hoping to my feet. Rushing inside and up the stairs, I dug through the mess in mine and Stan’s closet. Finding the old hand wraps I knew Stan had kept, I ran back down the stairs and through the back door.

“Here.” I panted, bracing a hand against one of the porches supports.

“Geez Carla, don’t have a heart attack.” Stan said, concern lacing his voice.

“Yeah Mrs Pines. We’d both be, like, super sad if you died.” Soos added. I smiled at the pair of them.

“Don’t worry boys. I’m not planning on dying today. Here.” I repeated as I tossed the hand wraps at Stan. “You forgot these. Safety first Pines.” I ordered.

Stan grinned at my words. Memories of long afternoons training together in my dad’s gym filled my head.

Stan began to wrap his hands, still remembering how to do it perfectly, as I caught my breath. Once Stan was satisfied with the protection on his own hands, he turned back to Soos who had dropped his stance while watching Stan.

“Come on kid. Back into the first stance, like I showed ya.” Stan barked, still smiling.

As Soos brought his hands back up, I excused myself and walked into the kitchen thoughtfully.

I could stay out there and watch Stan relive our childhood training... or I could be the responsible adult and put the groceries away. Unfortunately, the groceries won.

 

Wiping my hands down the side of my pants, I caught sight of the time and grabbed Soos’ bike helmet from the hat stand in the hallway. Walking back outside, I leaned against the door frame as Stan taught Soos how to throw a powerful left hook.

Watching Stan laugh as Soos spun in a circle before gently righting the boy and guiding his hands to the right positions while explaining the move once more, my heart swelled.

This was a glimpse of the man Stanley truly was. Despite how much he had hated boxing when his own father had forced him to start lessons, Stan had quickly grown into the best boxer in the class by the age of 14. My dad had always said that, everyone knew it. Going into the ring with Stan was guaranteed to end with him being the victor. Unless you cheated, like I had... many times.

Stan had told me that during some of his hardest times, boxing was what helped get him through. Whether it was illegal, bare knuckle fighting or a legitimate competition... Boxing had kept Stan alive and hardened him into the man he was now.

To see him teaching Soos so willingly, with kindness and only a slight trace of his father’s harshness, I couldn’t help the tears pricking the back of my eyes.

“Not bad, not bad.” Stan smiled and straightened his back. “Back to ya first stance kid.”

Soos obeyed, quickly adopting the right posture.

Stan nooded approvingly.

“Right. Now I want ya to throw ya best left hook at me ok” He said, tapping his wrapped fists against Soos’ gloved hands. Soos looked uncertain, but nodded slowly.

“Come on. Really let me have it.” Stan encouraged.

Soos glanced at his left hand before smacking it weakly against Stan.

“No, no, no. Come on Soos! Harder than that.” Stan complained.

“But I don’t want to hurt anyone!” Soos protested meekly. I chuckled, alerting both of them to my presence.

“Don’t worry hon. Stan is hard to hurt. He’s tougher than he looks.”

“You say that like you’ve hit Mr Pines before.” Soos said nervously. Stan laughed.

“She has kid. Ya might not think it, but Carla was a champion boxer.”

“Woah! Really?” Soos’ eyes were wide and I smiled.

“Lightweight champion of New Jersey two years running.” I said proudly, bringing my fists up in a mock stance. “I used to train with Stan.”

“So you were like, crazy good at boxing.” Soos said with awe.

“I guess I was.”

“Hey, hey. What’s this was stuff? Bet you could still kick my butt.” Stan interrupted. I pulled a face and waggled my hand up and down slightly. Soos laughed.

“You guys are awesome.”

Stan snorted and tapped Soos’ gloved hand again.

“Come on, no more talk. Back to boxing.” He squared off in front of Soos again. “Really try this time kid.”

Soos nodded, looking much more determined.

He landed a solid hit, but Stan pulled a face.

“Not bad, but I know ya can do better. Tell ya a secret, come here,” Stan leaned down and whispered loudly in Soos’ ear, “ya gotta scream ‘left hook’ when ya punch me ok? Loud as ya can.”

Stan winked at Soos conspiringly as he straightened back up and gestured for Soos to punch him again.

“LEFT HOOK!” Soos yelled as he punched out, stumbling as he made contact with Stan’s raised palm.

I laughed with Stan as he steadied Soos, impressed by Soos’ enthusiasm.

“Not bad kid. Ya’ll get better.” Stan encouraged.

“Thanks Mr Pines.” Soos was red with his efforts, but his eyes were bright and happy. He spotted his helmet in my hand and looked panicked briefly. “Oh wow. What time is it? I should get going! Abuelita will worry if I’m not home for dinner. It’s like, my favourite meal... after lunch of course.” Soos turned and went to walk away.

“Gloves Soos.” Stan called.

“And helmet!” I added.

“Haha, right.” Soos jogged back and began struggling to unlace the cumbersome gloves. Stan sighed and reached across, quickly unlacing the gloves. I placed Soos’ helmet on his head and tapped it playfully. Soos grinned, waving as he ran back toward the front of the shack until he was out of sight.

There was a thump. A muffled ‘oof’ was followed by a laugh and “I’m ok dudes!”.

I shook my head with a soft smile and sat with a grateful sigh on the old sofa on the porch, my eyes slipping closed.

Stan flung himself down next to me and started to unwrap his hands.

“Thanks for getting these. The kid actually has a decent punch.” Stan said, rubbing his palm.

“Aww poor baby. You need me to make it feel better?” I offered, reopening my eyes. Stan flopped over and lay his head on my lap. Smiling, I plucked his fez off of his head and stroked his hair softly, enjoying the stillness after a busy day.

“Remember the first time you screamed left hook as you punched someone?” I asked. Stan smiled up at me.

“At the movies. A mugger tried to steal ya purse.” He said. I leaned back with a cheeky expression on my face.

“The night I first realised what a catch you were.” I said with a smile. Stan laughed.

“Doubt it. I was still a spotty little weakling. Ya didn’t even know who I was.” He mocked. I tapped his forehead lightly.

“Hey, you saved me and my purse. You were my hero.” I reminded him. Stan huffed a little and his chest puffed out with pride.

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say hero...” He murmured.

“You’ve always been my hero.” I replied.

Stan hummed contentedly and I resumed my stroking of his hair as we sat peacefully together.


	13. November 2010 - Life of the Pines

November 2010

 

Humming absently to myself, I locked the Diablo behind me and picked up my shopping before heading towards the house.

Stepping inside, I breathed a sigh of relief. Stan had clearly remembered to keep the old furnace well stoked, meaning the house was deliciously warm and cosy compared to the icy temperature outside.

“Stan? I’m back!” I called, setting the bags down before removing my coat. “Stan?”

No response.

Not unduly worried, I removed my boots and slid my feet into a fuzzy pair of slippers. Tucking the bags safely to the side of the stairs, I shuffled through the lounge and into the darkened gift shop.

Despite the Mystery Shack having been closed for two weeks, not to mention the snow that was beginning to fall, I still checked over my shoulder as I punched in the code to the basement on the vending machines panel. Old habits.

Making my way down the concealed stairs, I mulled over an incident that had occurred in town.

Susan had been telling me how the diner had been victim to a series of unusual pranks lately. Firstly, she swore that her pies and homemade jams had been stolen by tiny little men (I made a mental note to smack any gnomes found around the house harder than usual), but the most bizarre prank had been that some of the eggs at the diner had been filled with milk. I’d been sceptical, but after assuring Susan that whoever was doing it would eventually get bored, I’d stepped out of the diner  and come face-to-face with an incredibly odd looking bird. It had mostly resembled an owl, but peculiarly enough, it had the nose, mouth and even udders of a cow. Before I’d even had a chance to process what I was seeing, the bird had screamed “MHOO!” at me and flapped off into the forest.

After almost 3 decades of dealing with the oddities of Gravity Falls, I knew better than to just run away in denial. I’d taken a closer look at the tree and discovered a small nest with eggs nestled inside the tree’s hollow.  Picking one up and gently shaking it, I’d heard a faint sloshing sound.

Judging by the udders on the owl-cow bird, I was willing to bet this was the culprit behind Susan’s ‘mysterious’ milk eggs. Either she was finding them and taking them into the diner, then forgetting she had (which was possible – her memory had been getting worse lately, not to mention her absentmindedness), or at least one of those birds had nested inside the diner.

“Remind me to talk to Susan about her egg problem at some point this week.” I said in way of hello to Stan who was currently hunched over the desk in the basement.

“Huh? Eggs?” Stan looked at me in confusion.

“Oh, nothing. Just a conversation I had with Susan earlier.” I waved a hand dismissively. “But don’t order eggs at the diner for awhile.”

I leaned down and kissed the top of Stan’s head.

“Hello.”

Stan instinctively wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close to him.

“Hey gorgeous. Get what ya needed?”

“Mmhm.” I mumbled against Stan’s hair, my eyes closing briefly. “Thanks for keeping the furnace going.”

“Meh. It’s nothing.”

“We’re going to need it. Snow’s already starting to fall.”

“Great. I hate snow.” Stan grumbled.

I huffed a laugh and lifted my head, opening my eyes.

“So, what have you done all morning?”

“The usual. Figuring out that hunk a’ junk and why it won’t work.” Stan glared through the window at the offending portal in the adjoining room.

“Anything new?”

Stan sighed, sagging against me.

“Not yet. I can’t shake the feeling we’re missing something obvious baby.”

“Like the second journal?” I sighed and moved to grab the other chair, Stan’s arm sliding off me.

“Probably.” Stan pushed his glasses up as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. Plonking myself down into the chair, I tugged the journal over and snapped it shut.

“Hey!” Stan complained half-heartedly.

“Staring at the same page all day will not be helping you figure anything out. What about your other plan? To start tinkering with the mechanics? You had time to mess around with the wiring yet?”

“To do that, I need the blueprints.” Stan huffed crabbily and snatched the journal back. “Did ya come down here just to bug me?”

“God forbid you spend some time with your wife.” I teased. “It’s lonely upstairs without you. And I don’t have the shop to keep me busy anymore.”

“Pretty sure ya could still do stocktaking.” Stan grumbled quietly. I clasped my chest theatrically.

“What? And let you miss out on all the fun of putting things on shelves? Never!”

Stan just rolled his eyes in response and flicked through the journal. I narrowed my eyes and prodded his shoulder softly.

“You’re just going to give me the silent treatment until I leave aren’t you?”

Stan nodded, focused on the open pages. I huffed.

“You know I’ll just keep talking.” I threatened, still poking his shoulder. Stan’s mouth twitched and I could see him trying not to smile. Stilling my hand, I dragged my chair closer until I could rest my head on Stan’s shoulder.

“Fine. I’ll just fill you in on the latest escapades of the town and then I’ll leave you in peace.” I conceded. Stan inclined his head in what I took to be a sign of acceptance.

“So I saw Ramona. She’s mad at you. Apparently Soos is now convinced that the local mailman is actually a werewolf and is having nightmares about being bitten. So I expect you to sort that one out.”

Stan made some sort of noise of protest. I held up a hand.

“Don’t care. You caused it, you sort it. Those stupid Halloween stories. You know how impressionable Soos is.” I glanced up at Stan. He still didn’t seem inclined to talk back.

“Saw the Corduroys. Wendy’s shot another foot! Looks more like her mother than ever. She’s 13 now, can you believe it?”

“Great. Just what this town needs, another teenager.” Stan muttered to himself. I laughed triumphantly.

“Knew that would get you to talk!”

Stan rolled his eyes and mimed pinching his lips shut with a faint smile. Shaking my head fondly, I continued with the stories of the day.

“Dan said he’d be happy to sort that dodgy beam in the museum. And we wouldn’t have to pay,” I held a finger up as Stan’s eyes lit up at the prospect of free labour, “IF, if we looked after his kids for a few days.”

Stan immediately deflated, grumbling under his breath and sucking at his teeth.

“Hardly seems worth it for one lousy beam.”

“A lawsuit from an injured tourist would cost a hell of a lot more.” I pointed out.

“Eh, suppose.” Stan sighed. “But all four of his kids? For more than a day? I don’t mind Wendy, she’s a sweet enough kid,”

“Even though she’s a teenager now?” I asked with a smile.

“Even as a teenager. But those boys? They’re a menace.”

“They’re just kids. You were like that too you know. You used to cause havoc at school.” I teased.

“Totally different.” Stan said defensively.

“Of course. Anyway, we can handle them. Wouldn’t be too much of a hassle.”

“Never known Dan to leave his kids for more than a few hours, let alone days. What’s the occasion?” Stan asked.

“Apparently his brother’s logging company is a few men down and struggling to fill a massive order. Dan offered to go up and help out.” I yawned, closing my eyes again and snuggling against Stan’s shoulder.

“Huh. I can understand that,” Stan muttered, “helping out a brother.”

“Mmm. So I’ll ring him tomorrow and organise that.”

“Sounds good baby. Anything else to share?”

I could feel Stan’s arm moving as he scribbled down notes, the movement lulling me into a sleepy state.

“Hmm? Oh. Yes. Bud Gleeful is still trying to charm me away.”

Stan’s chair squeaked alarmingly as he spun round to face me, my head now resting on empty space.

“Hey!” I complained, head dropping sharply, snapping me awake.

“That Southern walking, talking cartoon? Again?” Stan fumed. “Didn’t he get the message last time?”

“Apparently not.” I stretched. “It was creepier than normal this time. He had his son with him, whatshisname... Gideon, I think.”

“Urgh. That kid creeps me out. He’s not normal.” Stan grunted, possessively taking hold of my hand.

“Oh Stan, he’s not that strange! I mean, the little suits, that blank stare, those sickeningly cute dances, those are odd but...” I frowned. “actually, now you’ve said it, he may not be normal. I swear his hair had white streaks in in today.”

“Huh, so. What did Bud Gleeful say to ya?” Stan tightened his grip on my hand.

“He mainly just talked about how Gideon is doing so well at school, always got his nose in some old book. Bragging really. Apparently the car business is doing well. I think he was trying to sniff around to figure out if we were still bringing in money.” I squeezed Stan’s hand, dragging my thumb over the back of his hand. “So I told him he could come and see for himself on a private tour, a half price bargain at 30 bucks.”

Stan stared for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing.

“Haha! You’re brilliant Carla!” He smiled warmly. “Bud isn’t a match for ya.”

“Not after years of living with a professional conman like you hon.” I smiled and climbed to my feet. “Right, I think that’s all I have to tell you.”

Stan kept a tight hold of my hand  and tugged me close.

“I love ya baby.”

I ran my fingertips through the side of Stan’s hair with a soft smile.

Despite having been together for so long, I knew Stan still hated the idea of being left alone again. No matter how many times I promised him I wasn’t going anywhere, I knew there was still doubts in the back of Stan’s mind. Stan had been let down a lot in his life, but he had nothing to worry about with me. Never would.

“I love you too old man.” I teased kindly. “But promise me you’ll come back upstairs sometime today?”

“Sure thing.” Stan let go of my hand with a smile. I arched an eyebrow at him.

“Promise?

Stan rolled his eyes.

“Promise. Wanna kiss on it?”

“Always.” I ducked my head, eyes already fluttering closed as Stan met me halfway.

“Better not forget.” I warned as we broke away.

“Yeah, yeah. Go on, get back upstairs and let me work woman.” Stan flapped a hand at me.

“Alright. Dinner’s at 6:30.” I said, walking away with a fond smile, leaving Stan to his own work.

 

X

 

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when,” I sang softly as I finished drying the last plate.

“But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day!” Stan joined in loudly, “Keep smiling through, just like you always do,”

“til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far awaa- hey!” I broke off as Stan suddenly grabbed me and spun me clumsily in the small kitchen.

“So will you please say hello to the folks that I know,” Stan dipped me with an expectant face, waiting for me to sing the next line.

“Tell them I’m gonna fall!” I adlibbed, clutching Stan tightly with a grin.

“Spoilsport.” Stan pulled a face and set me the right way up. “I’d never let ya fall.”

“Of course not.” I smiled. “Never have either.”

 “Why’d we pick a war song?” Stan asked as he crouched to add more wood to the wood stove.

“Didn’t it play at prom?” I wrinkled my brow as I filled the kettle. “No, after prom. When we all went to the look out.”

“Oh yeah. Our first dance.” Stan stood and wrapped his arms around me, swaying from side to side.

“You were covered in fruit punch.” I smiled at the memory.

“Hah! Only cause For-“ Stan cut himself off, falling silent. I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek.

“Go pick another record. Sinatra.” I suggested. Stan kissed the side of my neck and let go of me.

Within moments, Vera Lynn was replaced with much smoother jazz and the crooning of Frank Sinatra.

“Coffee?” I called out.

“Thanks baby.” Stan replied.

I bustled round the kitchen, swaying in time with the music as the kettle boiled.

Grabbing the two hot cups of coffee, I turned to find Stan watching me from the door with a dopey smile on his face.

“How long were you there?” I demanded, face heating slightly.

“Long enough to remember all the reasons why I love ya.” Stan pushed off the door frame and walked toward me. I handed him his cup with a scowl.

“Coulda warned me.”

“Never. Love watching ya dance when ya think you’re alone.” Stan walked through to the lounge and settled himself on the recliner. I squeezed in next to him, the warmth of the house and the warmth of Stan warming me through to the bone more than the coffee ever could. Stan draped his arm around me as Frank Sinatra’s ‘My Way’ filled the room.

_“I did what I had to do, and saw it through, without exemption,”_

Stan took a sip of his coffee and settled back. I leaned over and placed my coffee on the old dinosaur skull before snuggling back into Stan, emotion welling in the back of my throat as the song made me think of all the time Stan spent on his own.

_“But through it aaalll, when there was doubt, I ate it up! And spit it oouut! I faced it aall, and I stood taalll, and did it mmyyy waayyy.”_

It seemed any song at the moment was going to bring up memories neither of us wanted to talk about.

Stan seemed oblivious, still drinking his coffee with a content look on his face.

I pushed those gloomy thoughts away and focused on Stan. Stan was solid under my arm, warm and here, happy. Or at least as happy as he was going to be with that portal under our feet and the long suffering promise of getting Ford back, a promise that got more and more unlikely as each year passed.

I shook my head slightly, frowning to myself. Stan felt me move and glanced down.

“Ya alright doll?” He asked, concerned. I smiled softly.

“Fine. Just nodding off.” I lied, refusing to bring up my concerns about the portal. They wouldn’t help us now.

“Ya should sleep then. Go on, I don’t mind.” Stan patted his chest and I couldn’t resist. I laid my head against Stan and felt his arm curve round my back to rest on the dip of my waist, his hand automatically stroking against me. Closing my eyes, I focused on the rise and fall of Stan’s chest with each breath, the occasional loud slurp of coffee and shifting as Stan got more comfortable.

Eventually I did find myself getting sleepy, lulled into it by the warmth, soft music and above all, the comfort of having Stan there.

 

Waking suddenly, I realised I was alone. I moved and felt something catch on my legs, sending a bolt of panic through me. Reaching down, I felt the soft texture of a blanket and sat up with a sigh. The hall light was on and I could see I was still in the recliner, blanket draped over me and a pillow had been under my head. Stan’s doing no doubt.

Sighing, I got to my feet, shivering as I felt the cold edge to the air. I’d been asleep for a while if the fire had started to die down.

Which meant Stan had probably gone back downstairs.

Cursing him in my head, I folded the blanket and grabbed the pillow.

If he was going to spend long winter night’s down there, the least he could do was take the blanket with him. Not leave it with me up in the warm house.

Making my way down to the basement, the temperature began to drop further and I felt like dragging Stan away from the blasted portal and nailing the secret passage way shut. This was ridiculous!

Fully intending to give Stan a right earful of my opinion, I stepped out of the elevator and found Stan asleep at the desk. A sight I was all too used to at this point.

Anger melted away, replaced by an instant sadness.

If only Ford could see his dumb, screw up, suffocating brother now. Pushing himself to the limit in a freezing basement every night to try and fix something that was beyond the technology ever known in this day and age.

Stan snorted and shifted in the chair. I reached out and removed his glasses carefully before flicking the blanket over him gently so as not to disturb him.

I’d ask around town to see if anyone had an old electric heater that I could buy. If Stan was going to spend time down here, the least I could do is make sure he’d be warm.

Placing the pillow by Stan’s head, I stared through the window at the dark portal next door.

“You’re going to be the death of him Ford.” I whispered quietly before turning and heading back upstairs alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such a struggle! But I'm glad it's finished and I'm actually happy with it :)  
> Can you spot the references?  
> Also, I may or may not have been listening to Frank Sinatra while writing this :P I love "I Did It My Way."


	14. May 2012 - Setting Up a Long Con

May 2012

 

“Gompers. Get out of there.” I swatted at the goat on the bed half-heartedly. Gompers bleated at me and trotted out of the attic.

“How does the damn goat keep getting in here anyway?” I grumbled, lugging another box across the room to the already packed shelves.

“I think he learnt to open doors.” Stan commented as he walked in.

“Teach him how to talk and he could give the tours instead of you.” I retorted.

“Haha she got you good Mr Pines.” Soos laughed as he dragged in the second bed behind Stan.

“Thanks Soos.” Stan grumbled.

“You should be happier Stan. The twins show up in a week’s time.” I smiled as I pushed open the triangular window.

Soos shoved the bed against the wall.

“All done Mrs Pines. You want me to do anything else?”

“No thanks Soos. I think this will do for today.” I sighed, taking a look around the small attic space.

Now that the two beds were in place, I could see what else needed to be done. I couldn’t do much about the old boxes of Ford’s notes, so I’d just stacked them onto the shelves. The other junk I’d got Soos to pile into the far corner.

“Do you think it’s going to be ok for them?” I fretted, turning back to Stan. He waved a hand dismissively.

“It will be fine. It’s not like we have a lot of other options... I wasn’t the one who invited them here for summer.” He grumbled. I placed a hand on my hip and smiled at him, more than happy to call him out.

“You’re so full of it Stan. You’re excited to see them again.” I raised my eyebrows at him. Stan smiled reluctantly.

“Yeah, well so what if I am?” He said gruffly.

“I’m excited to meet them. Mrs Pines has been talking about them all week.” Soos chimed in.

“Nobody asked you Soos.” Stan replied.

“I know.” Soos smiled. “I’m going to go fix something now.” He wandered out of the room.

“You’re still too harsh on him sometimes.” I chastised. “He only wants to help.”

Stan sat down on one of the beds.

“I know.”

“You’ve been more snappish than usual with him lately.” I commented, still flitting around the room, dusting off beams and righting a couple of old crates. Stan sighed, leaning forward and loosely clasping his hands between his knees.

“I know.”

“So what’s going on?”

“I’m just, ah. It’s nothing.”

“Oh no mister.” I turned and faced Stan, hands planted firmly on my hips. “You don’t get out of this so easily. Start talking Pines.”

Stan huffed, smiling wanly.

“I’m worried Carla. And excited, and scared and, and god knows what else!” Stan blurted out in a rush, face reddening at the sudden admission of emotions. I softened at that and sat next to him.

“I know. Me too. But mostly excited right?”

Yeah.” Stan mumbled.

“So let’s focus on that. I mean, Mabel and Dipper are 12 now. It’s been years since we last saw them. I can’t wait to see what they’re like now.” Excitement was creeping back into my voice.

“What if they don’t like me?” Stan’s voice sounded hollow. I sighed and rested a hand on his leg.

“Stan...”

“No, I mean it Carla. Even around Soos, I act like Pa used to. I don’t wanna end up like him.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous.” I reached over and took hold of his hand. “You are nothing like Filbrick. A bit gruff, and maybe a little too harsh sometimes, but you are not your father and Soos adores you. The twins will too.”

“Ya think so?” Stan glanced at me, hopeful.

“Absolutely. It just might take a while for them to see under that crusty old man exterior.” I joked, nudging him.

Stan chuckled, lifting our hands to kiss the back of mine.

“Thanks baby.”

“Anytime. Now, let’s see... what else needs to be done up here?”

“Ya want me to go pick up that stuff from Susan?” Stan offered as we stood.

“Yes please love. I’m so glad she had some extra bedding. And Soos managed to dig out his old sleeping bag so hopefully Dipper won’t mind that...” I scanned the room critically. “I might just try and clean as much as I can.”

“Don’t clean too hard. The mould might be the only thing holding this place together.” Stan teased. I pulled a face.

“I hope not. Don’t want to expose those two to anything dangerous while they sleep.”

“Carla, this is Gravity Falls.” Stan pointed out.

“Urgh, don’t remind me. It’s going to be hard enough keeping them safe outside.” I sighed, a whole new set of worries dropping into my head.

“They’re Pines. They’ll be fine.” Stan reassured before kissing the top of my head and walking toward the door. “See ya in a bit baby.”

I waved over my shoulder, still glancing between the two bare beds on either side of the room.

Butterflies were flapping madly in my stomach and I started to smile, the excitement pushing away any worries I had about Mabel and Dipper visiting.

Only a week! One week and my adorable little grand niece and nephew would be here all summer!

Unable to help myself, I did a little happy dance right there and then in the middle of the attic before tossing an old sheet over the broken arcade game by the cupboard.

I couldn’t wait!

An amused bleat snapped me out of my happy dance.

“Gompers!”

Gompers smirked at me from the open window.

“How in the world did you get up there?” I asked, exasperated by the goat’s persistence.

Gompers simply blinked his slotted eyes and leapt daintily into the room before trotting past me with a smug “Maa!”

Rolling my eyes, I took one last look around the room with a faint smile before following Gompers.

 

X

 

“I’ve been thinkin’ baby, we need ta talk.”

I looked up from the notebook I was busy scribbling advanced equations in and found Stan staring at me.

“About?” I asked, laying my pen down as Stan worried at his bottom lip.

“What ya said earlier, about keeping the kids safe?”

“Yes.” I spun in my chair, laying my book on the desk.

“Well, what about all this?” Stan gestured at the room around us.

We were down in the basement as usual, the portal watching us work to figure out its secrets.

“You’re not suggesting we tell them?” I asked, heart racing at the thought of involving two innocent kids in this mess. Stan waved his hands quickly.

“Holy Moses, no! Just, just whadda we do about it all?”

“You don’t just mean the portal do you?”

“No.” Stan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Just driving over ta Susan’s today, I had to swerve to avoid those creepy ducks with faces on their stomachs. Not to mention when Steve decided he wanted to swat gnomes out on our front lawn last week. I mean sure, he didn’t damage the house this time, but what if the kids see that? How da we explain it to them?”

I thought for a moment, fiddling with my wedding ring.

“We’re going to have to act like the rest of this town. Like we don’t believe them.” I said eventually, heart sinking at the thought of lying to the twins so blatantly.

“How can we though? Lie through our teeth to them and then come down here and work on a interdimensional portal thing?” Stan was growing more and more agitated. “And what about the portal? Shit, I hadn’t even – How can we keep working on it? If we try to power it again, remember what happened last time? We shot the power for most of the town! How could we keep them from knowing about it when they’re living above it?!”

“Freak accident.” I lied easily. “Come on Stan, we’ve spent most of our lives lying. You more so than me. We just gotta be extra careful for the next few months.”

“I don’t want those kids ta get hurt Carla.” Stan admitted quietly.

“I know. Neither do I.” I scooted over and laid a hand over his.

“So how do we keep them safe?”

“Well, we can’t tell them not to go into the forest. That’s just gonna be like a red flag to a Manotaur.” I mused. “Probably best just to let them explore and pray that they don’t meet anything too dangerous.”

“That is the worst plan I’ve ever heard.” Stan deadpanned.

“Well, we can’t say ‘Don’t go in there. It’s dangerous!’ and then not expect them to wonder why. But I will tell Soos to stick to them like glue. So if we’re not there, he will be.”

Stan sighed.

“I suppose that’s a bit better. He’s a good kid, he won’t let anything hurt them.”

“And he knows how weird Gravity Falls can be. He’s our best option.”

“But what about when something breaks in the shop?”

“Then he probably caused it to break.” I teased lightly. “Besides, we’ll have Wendy.”

“That’s true, we’ll have Wend- wait, what?!”

“Oh? I didn’t tell you? Dan told me she needed a part time summer job. He wants her to start learning responsibility. So it was either here or ship her up north to his brother’s logging camp away from her friends.” I smiled at Stan’s irritation. “Come on, she’s a good kid.”

“She’s a lazy teenager! I’m not having her in the shop.” Stan huffed and folded his arms.

“Yes, you are. She’s known us for years, she’ll be extra help for me in the shop, she’s close to the twin’s age so they’ll have someone to talk too... give me one good reason why we shouldn’t hire her?”

“Because she’s a teenager.” Stan repeated.

“That’s stupid. Give me a real reason.”

“OK. What about what her and her friends did to the golf cart last year?”

I had to admit, Stan had got me there. But I owed it to both Dan and Wendy to play that particular incident down.

“So they stole the golf cart by distracting Soos with pizza and then crashed it into a tree. They’re kids! They do stupid stuff.”

Stan glared at me.

“You already told Dan we’d hire here didn’t you?

“Yeah.”

“Fine. But she’s on minimum wage with no raise prospects!”

“Stan, Soos is still on minimum wage after 8 years and he still loves working here.”

“Huh. Bet Wendy doesn’t last the summer.” Stan sniffed.

“Wanna bet on it?” I goaded.

“Sure. The usual wager?”

“Dinner and dancing? Absolutely.” I shook Stan’s hand firmly. Stan grinned.

“Ya know that bet’s rigged right?”

“Never stopped me before.” I grinned back. “Besides, I love our date nights.”

“It’s gonna be a long summer.” Stan smiled.

 

X

 

I placed the last plate away in the cupboard and counted them again for what felt like the millionth time.  Luckily we hadn’t broken too many plates or bowls over the years, there’d be just enough for all of us over summer.

Flicking the kitchen light off, I paused in the hallway. The house was unusually quiet. Normally I would be able to hear music from the old record player or Stan grumbling at the TV... Tonight, nothing.

“Stan?” I called out. He hadn’t told me he was going downstairs.

Suddenly, a creak echoed through the house, the wood groaning as something moved around upstairs.

I sighed.

“I swear to god Gompers, if you’re in our bedroom again,” I grumbled as I made my way up the stairs, “I am gonna sell you to Farmer Sprockett and let him make mutton outta you.”

I glared into our bedroom, expecting the yellow eyed gaze at any moment when the creak came from above my head yet again.

“Oh ho. So now you’re gonna hang out in the attic huh?” I muttered, climbing up the further flight of stairs. Pausing on the landing outside the attic door, I could hear Gompers moving around the small room. Resting a hand on the door handle, I prepared to catch the damn goat off guard.

“Gotcha!” I pushed the door open to the attic with a loud bang.

“Holy Moses Carla! What’s ya problem!” Stan yelled, jumping as I entered the room.

“Oops. Thought you were Gompers. Whatcha doing up here?” I asked.

Stan sighed and turned back to the window, gazing out at the night.

“Jus’ thinking.”

“Dangerous.” I teased, walking up behind him and slipping my arm through his. It was a beautiful night though. The air had lost it’s cold chill, so much so that neither Stan or I needed to wear more layers than necessary. The silhouettes of the trees were lit by the clear skies, stars shining and a gibbous moon casting a cool light over the sleeping world.

“What would they think of me if they knew who I really was? What I’ve done in my life?” Stan asked quietly.

“This is who you really are Stan.” I replied softly. “Stanford Pines didn’t build a business from the ground up, Stanford Pines didn’t rebuild a broken portal without help, Stanley Pines did. Just because you wear his name, doesn’t mean you’re him.”

“You’ve gotta have that memorised by now.” Stan made a weak attempt at humour.

“Oh, I do. And written down on an index card somewhere.” I smiled. “The twins are gonna love you.”

Stan sighed and held something up. Peering at it in the dim light, I realised it was last year’s Christmas card we’d received from Matt and Emily. It had been one of those photo cards they’d made themselves. The family was gathered round a large Christmas tree, all wearing silly sweaters (all made by Mabel we later found out) and holding a banner that said Happy Hanukah. Stan had laughed himself stupid when he saw it. He called it the good ol’ Pines family humour.

“They’ve grown up so much Carla. It’s not like when they were still babies and all I had to do was read a book or pull stupid faces to keep ‘em happy.”

“It’s going to be fine Stan. Just be yourself... or at least a slightly less grumpy version of yourself.” I teased.

Stan huffed and stared down at the card. I squeezed his arm softly.

“Stanley,”

Stan tore his gaze away from the card to look down at me.

“Whatever happens, we’re in this together. And Sherm knows where his grandkids are being sent for summer. He wouldn’t let them come if he didn’t trust us to look after them. Everything is going to be fine.”

Stan still looked unsure. I sighed.

“What do I have to say to convince you about this?”

“Tell me nothing is gonna go wrong.”

“That’s not fair, no one could promise that Stan.”

“Then I’ll just keep being worried then.” Stan snapped. I rolled my eyes and tried to keep my calm. I knew Stan was always watching for trouble, Lord knows he’d dealt with enough trouble to last one person several lifetimes, but this was starting to get annoying. I was worried about this summer too, but I knew that the twins were Pines’ right down to their core, and that made them practically indestructible. This summer should be something for us to be excited about.

“Look, come here you big lug,” I tugged Stan over to one of the newly made beds, pulling us both down to sit on top of the [colour] comforter. “you’re looking at this the wrong way. You’re not thinking like Stanley Pines.”

“Oh yeah? And how’s that?” Stan cocked an eye brow at me.

“Yeah. I reckon this could be the biggest con of Stanley Pines’ life. And if he pulls it off,” I shrugged, “who knows? He’d have done something no one ever thought he was capable of.”

“A con job huh?” Stan repeated slowly, I could see him warming up to the idea.

“Absolutely. All he’s gotta do is keep up acting like the town darlin’ Mr Mystery, play nice with his great niece and nephew, and keep his head.”

“And keep acting out his married life too right?” Stan grinned wolfishly and I cuffed the back of his head.

“Shouldn’t be an act by now you pain.” I reprimanded lovingly. Stan chuckled.

“So, keep my head huh?”

“Exactly. Lose it now and you lose everything. You used to play the tables at Vegas, this is the ultimate high stake.” I continued, trying to pull all of Stan’s strings. Not that I needed too anymore, Stan already seemed to be onboard with this new way of looking at it.

“Yeah, YEAH. I played those suckers for chumps! What’s another three months? Ya damn right I can pull this con job off!”

“There’s my Stanley.” I reached up and pecked his cheek. “Feeling better about it?”

“Yeah, ya know, I actually am.” Stan gazed at me with warm eyes. “Thanks baby. For making it something I can understand.”

“Told you, sometimes you forget who you actually are. And I’m more than happy to remind you. Every time.” I smiled and rested against his shoulder. Stan wrapped an arm around me and rested his head against mine.

“So, one week huh?”

“Seven days.” I smiled.

“Can’t wait.” Stan replied as we sat there in the rapidly darkening attic.

There was a loud crash and a triumphant bleating from downstairs, both Stan and I jumping at the noise.

“GOMPERS!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who arrives next week? :)  
> Also, we've just crossed the halfway point! This fanfic became crazy long. Buckle in for the next 13 chapters people :)


	15. June 2012 - An Unfortunate Accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mabel and Dipper have arrived!!!  
> From this point on, I'm going to be rewriting some of the actual episodes from both season's of Gravity Falls (but there will still be some original stuff). So I may just start halfway through an episode, or start at the beginning, and hopefully if you've seen Gravity Falls, you'll be able to know where we are regardless.  
> Also, I've tried to stick to the original transcript of the episodes, but I have had to edit or paraphrase to fit Carla in there. Hopefully it works well enough :)  
> Enjoy!

June 2012

 

Working through the weekly cash records at the table, I paused to look across at where Mabel and Dipper were curled up on the floor watching TV.

Mabel was knitting happily, well on her way to finishing yet another sweater (she’d only been here a week and had already made 2 whole new sweaters, despite the mammoth collection she’d brought with her). Dipper was watching the screen intently, occasionally shovelling popcorn in his mouth or slapping Mabel’s hand away from the bowl.

Forcing myself back to the columns of numbers in front of me, I smiled happily. While I will admit, it had been strange getting used to having the two young ones constantly around, I was still blissfully happy to have them here.

Across the room, the sound of the twins chattering about clues was overtaken by the sound of Soos running down the hallway.

“Hey dudes, you’ll never guess what I found!” he announcing, leaning through the doorframe.

As usual, whenever those words were uttered in this house, my heart spiked and I fought the urge to make up some excuse to get the kids out of the house. Or at least, I forced myself to wait for Soos to tell us what he found before lying through my teeth.

“Buried treasure?” Dipper exclaimed as he and Mabel climbed to their feet.

“Buried - ” Mabel shoved her brother with a laugh. “I was gonna say that!”

Giving up on the numbers, I walked over to join the twins.

“Well? Don’t keep us waiting Soos, did you find buried treasure?” I asked with a smile, resting my hand on Mabel’s shoulder.

“Haha. Almost Mrs Pines. I’ll show you.” Soos beckoned for us to follow him before disappearing back into the house.

Both twins glanced up at me and I shrugged before prompting them forward.

As we followed Soos down the halls, my heart began to thump harder. We were close to some pretty secret stuff in this part of the house. Stan and I had done our best to keep anything suspicious hidden but still... please let it actually be buried treasure Soos had found, I pleaded internally. There were too many other uncomfortable alternatives.

“So, I was cleaning up, when I found this secret door,” Soos stopped in front of a section of wallpaper that was peeling and had been ripped, clearly revealing the outline of a door behind it.

At this point, my heart stopped.

Was this secret door number one? Or secret door number two? Why did we have so many secret doors?!

Mabel had grabbed the back of Dipper’s jacket, peering over her brother’s shoulder as Soos continued.

“hidden behind the wallpaper. It’s crazy bonkers creepy!” Soos waggled his fingers for emphasis before opening the newly found door.

We all poked our heads around the doorway, peering into the dusty room.

Dipper was the first of us to brave the dark, Mabel still clutching at him. Soos hurried after them, leaving me to anxiously enter last.

Pulling a flashlight from somewhere inside his jacket, Dipper shone the beam of light around the room. Several tall, human forms suddenly filled the room.

“Woah! It’s a secret wax museum!” Dipper exclaimed.

I breathed out, relaxing slightly.

Good. It wasn’t a secret room. Just the old storage room with those stupid, creepy wax statues.

Mabel had separated from her brother and was inspecting one of the sculptures.

“They’re so life-like!”

Dipper flicked his flashlight along the row of statues.

“Except for this one.” He commented.

“Hello!”

The twins, Soos and myself all screamed in shock as we were caught off guard by Stan hiding amongst the sculptures. Stan chuckled, pleased with the reaction he’d gotten.

“It’s just me, your Grunkle Stan!” He waved.

Soos, Mabel and Dipper screamed again before dashing out of the room.

Leaning forward, I smacked Stan on the arm before walking across to the light switch.

“What are you playing at?” I scolded as he light flickered to life above our heads, “Did you have to hide with the creepy wax statues?”

Stan snorted, a grin still plastered on his face while he rubbed his arm.

“Worth it for ya faces. Didn’t know I could still make ya scream like that, outside the bedroom that is.”

I rolled my eyes, glancing at the still open door.

“Pig. What were you doing in here anyway?”

“I saw Soos find a hidden door, whaddya think I was gonna do? Wanted to make sure it wasn’t a room we didn’t want them to find.” Stan shrugged. I smiled, fighting the urge to laugh.

Once again, I was reminded of how well Stan and I had fitted together over the years.

Mabel and Dipper’s faces appeared in the doorway briefly before they trotted back into the old storage room, followed by Soos.

“So what the heck is all of this Grunkle Stan?” Mabel asked.

“Yeah, Grauntie Carla?” Dipper cocked his head to the side.

“Care to explain Stan?” I passed the question to Stan with an innocent smile. Stan grinned and flourished his hands.

“Behold the Gravity Falls Wax Museum! It was one of our most popular attractions... before I forgot all about it.”

“Before I made you lock them away you mean.” I suppressed the shudder that threatened to run through me.

Stan shrugged and continued.

“We got ‘em all! Genghis Khan, Sherlock Holmes, some kind of, I don’t know, goblin man?” Stan gestured at the statue of Larry King while pulling a face.

Dipper shuddered and looked around nervously.

“Is anyone else getting the creeps here?”

I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“I always got the creeps around these things hon. I swear they used to move when I wasn’t looking.” I confided with a smile.

Dipper returned my smile nervously as we followed behind Stan, who was still introducing the wax sculptures.

“And now for my personal favourite: Wax Abraham Lincoln, right over - ” Stan gestured at a blob of unidentifiable wax sitting in a beam of sunlight, “Oh! Oh no! Come one, who left the blinds open? Wax John Wilkes Booth, I’m looking in your direction!”

Stan sighed and crouched down, poking the pile of melted wax with a dismayed expression.

“How do ya fix a wax figure?” He asked mournfully.

Mabel stepped forward, a wide smile on her face as she rest a hand on her Grunkle’s arm.

“Cheer up Grunkle Stan. Where’s that smile?” Mabel began to poke Stan’s face cheerfully.

“Egh.” Stan grunted, still frowning. Mabel wasn’t to be deterred.

“Beep, bop, boop!” She babbled, poking Stan in the eye accidently.

“Ow.” Stan grumbled, finally pushing Mabel’s hands away.

“Don’t worry Grunkle Stan. I’ll make you a new wax figure from all this old wax!” Mabel offered, her eyes lighting up at the challenge.

Stan gave her a dubious look.

“You really think ya can make one of these puppies?”

“Grunkle Stan, I am an arts and crafts master!” Mabel flourished her arms. “Why do you think I always have this glue gun stuck to my arm?” Mabel suddenly frowned, shaking her arm in an attempt to dislodge the glue gun. “Eugh, eugh!”

Stan and I exchanged a quick glance. I shrugged slightly. Where was the harm in letting Mabel mess around with the wax? Stan gave Mabel a grin.

“Ok! I like your gumption kid!”

Mabel stilled her arm waving, giving Stan a polite grin.

“I don’t know what that means, but thank you.” Mabel turned and grabbed her brother’s arm. “Dipper! Come on! I gotta go plan my masterpiece!”  
Dipper grimaced but allowed his sister to drag him from the room.

Soos took another look at the sculptures, grinning.

“Awesome stuff dudes. High five?” He asked the sculpture of Richard Nixon. When he didn’t get a reply, Soos slapped his own hand. “Self five!” He laughed and followed after the twins.

Stan stepped closer to me.

“Whaddya reckon she makes?” Stan asked.

“Knowing her, something horrifying and covered in glitter.” I answered, looking around the wax sculpture filled room. “Why did we never just trash this lot? We’re never gonna use them again.”

“Ya never know. Depending on what the gremlin makes, we could be back in business baby.” Stan winked, pecking my cheek before leaving the storage room.

I rubbed my arms, shivering suddenly as I was left alone under the gaze of the sculptures. Following Stan quickly, I paused at the door.

“Still creepy.” I muttered, snapping the door shut on the silent wax statues.

 

X

 

Stan walked into the office, grumbling about something.

I glanced up from the accounts book.

“Found your pants then.” I commented.

“Yeah.”

“Mabel still working?”

“Yup. Dipper said I was gonna be surprised.” Stan snorted. “Yeah right. I’m never surprised. Razor sharp, always one step ahead,”

“You’ve lost your shoes.” I smiled, leaning forward over the desk.

Stan frowned midsentence and looked down before cussing.

“Dammit! Where the hell did I leave them now?” Stan tossed his hands in the air and strode out of the office.

Knowing he’d left them in the kitchen, I stood and followed after him.

Stan was already heading  down to the exhibition room, still grumbling to himself about his shoes. Darting into the kitchen, I grabbed his shoes before hurrying to the exhibition room just in time to see Stan flailing backwards and landing on his backside.

Mabel flitted over, wringing her hands.

“What do you think?”She asked nervously, looking between us. Dipper and Soos were also watching us.

I had frozen, reaching out to Stan in concern, when I’d noticed Mabel’s new creation.

It was Stan.

A good likeness too. I glanced between Stan still sitting on the ground in shock and the new Wax Stan. A really good likeness. You could almost think you were seeing double, like they were twins... oh.

I reached out to Stan again as he stood, carefully watching his face for his reaction when I remembered Mabel’s question.

“I think it’s amazing hon.” I smiled at her warmly, genuinely impressed by her talent. “You did amazingly. What do you think Stan?” I nudged him, none to gently, to snap him out of whatever thoughts he was currently lost in.

Stan jolted.

“Wha- what?”

“Mabel asked what you thought.” I prompted. Stan pulled himself up and grinned at Mabel.

“I think... the Wax Museum’s back in business!”

As Mabel skipped away in glee, Dipper and Soos in tow, I handed Stan his shoes.

“You think it’s worth reopening the museum again?”

“Look at this thing Carla! The kid’s got talent! Everyone’s gotta see this!” Stan exulted, walking around the statue.

“Mabel certainly has a gift,” I agreed, “it certainly looks like you, nose and all.”

“What ya trying to say? I gotta big nose?” Stan glared at me. I smiled and waggled my hand, not saying anything. Stan draped an arm around the statue and my heart skipped a beat painfully, my smile dropping instantly.

Stan and the statue really did look alike, and standing like that... I snapped out of it when Stan started complaining about the excessive amount of glitter now smeared down his jacket..

“Guess I was right about the glitter.” I smirked.

 

X

 

After the (failed) grand opening of the wax museum, I placed the days cash Stan had managed to escape with, in the safe and spun the lock back into place before getting to my feet. Rubbing at a ache in my lower back, I left the office and headed toward the front room when someone jumped out of the shadows at me.

“RAWR!”

I screamed and jumped back, smacking into the wall behind me.

Stan howled with laughter as he propped Wax Stan against the wall after apparently having used him to scare me. I scowled.

“Will you stop doing that!” I hissed. “You know I hate those things! Just because he wears your face doesn’t mean I like him anymore than the others!”

“I couldn’t help it baby,” Stan collected himself, still chuckling, “he’s the perfect partner in crime!”

I pursed my lips, already unsettled by the second Stan, not needing to hear Stan describe him in that way.

“Well, you and your partner in crime can go and tell the kids it’s bed time.” I stormed passed him, shuddering as Stan turned Wax Stan to watch me as I did so.

“And stop that!” I added snappishly.

Stan sighed and followed me more sedately.

Entering the front room, I wasn’t surprised to see Mabel and Dipper dressed for bed and watching reruns of Ducktective.

“Come on you two, time to get to bed.” I said as I walked past to the kitchen.

“In a minute Grauntie Carla,” Mabel scrambled to her feet as Stan came back into the room. “I wanna say goodnight to my masterpiece.”

I shuddered as I walked into the kitchen.

It wasn’t Mabel’s fault I was spooked... well, she DID make Wax Stan, but she couldn’t know that every time I saw him, all I could see was Ford (she didn’t even know about Ford for crying out loud)... Taking a deep, slow breath, I turned my attention to the dishes as Dipper stuck his head into the kitchen.

“G’night Grauntie Carla.”

“Night sweet.” I smiled at him. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth, your sister too!” I called after him.

“Okay Grauntie Carla!” Mabel agreed, bounding into the kitchen and flinging her arms around my waist. “Sweet dreams!”

“Sweet dreams Mabel.” I smiled as she let go of me. “Upstairs now.”

As the sounds of the kids retreated upstairs, I could hear Stan laughing at something on TV.

“Stupid duck! Well, I’m gonna use the john. You need anything?”

It took me a moment to realise he was talking to that wax statue. That was slightly disturbing.

Listening to Stan walk down the hall, I wandered over to the door of the living room.

Creepily enough, Stan had propped Wax Stan up on the recliner in a mimicry of sitting there watching TV.

Suddenly very creeped out and feeling watched, I hurried into the kitchen as Stan came back and headed toward the fridge.

“What are you doing Stan?” I asked, plunging my hands back into the soapy water.

“Getting a soda, why? Ya want one?” Stan asked over his shoulder.

“I meant with that wax statue. You’re treating it like it’s real.” I said, still facing the water.

Stan sighed.

“It’s the closest I’ve gotten to him in years Carla. Can’t ya let me have this?”

“But it’s not him Stan. And you know that.” I said, hating myself for it. But one of us had to say it.

There was a loud creaking and thump from somewhere in the house and I sighed, glancing up.

“I hope they haven’t broken something.”

Silence returned to the kitchen, only to be broken by Stan’s sad sigh.

“Carla, I know he’s not For-  ah, forget it.” Stan said miserably and left the kitchen before I could say another word.

Immediately regretting my words, I grabbed a dishcloth and left the kitchen, intending to apologise but was greeted by Stan’s anguished yell instead.

“No... No... Noooooo!”

Running into the lounge, I stopped in my tracks.

Wax Stan was lying on the floor, head missing.

Mabel and Dipper came sprinting downstairs, skidding to a stop beside me.

Stan looked at us all with wide eyes as the clock chimed loudly.

“Wax Stan! He’s been... m-murderded!”

 

Within half an hour, Stan had convinced the cops to come to the house and was busy explaining things to them.

“I got up to use the john, right? And when I came back, blammo! He’s headless!”

Mabel was on her knees by the headless the sculpture, looking downcast.

“My expert handcrafting... besmirched. Besmiiiirrrched!” She cried, Dipper moved to comfort her.

“Who would do something like this?” He asked.

I shifted and recrossed my legs where I was sitting in the recliner.

I’d thought about doing it, especially after Stan had scared me with it... but after seeing Stan’s face after Wax Stan had been decapitated, and actually seeing Stan’s headless body on the floor, I was feeling much more sympathetic about the whole situation.

“What’s your opinion Sheriff Blubs?” Duty Durland glanced at his superior.

Sheriff Blubs shook his head slowly.

“Look, we’d love to help you folks, but let’s face the facts... this case is unsolvable.” He said, staring at us from behind his sunglasses.

“WHAT?” Mabel, Dipper and Stan all replied in unison. I held my tongue. How Daryl Blubs became Sheriff, I still didn’t understand.

Stan was furious.

“You take that back Sheriff Blubs!” He shook a fist at Blubs.

“You’re kidding right? There must be evidence, motives... You know, I could help if you want.” Dipper offered, facing the cops.

“He’s really good!” Mabel was quick to support her brother. “He figured out who was eating our tin cans.”

“All signs pointed to the goat.” Dipper said proudly.

Stan gestured at Dipper frantically.

“Yeah, yeah! Let the boy help. He’s got a little brain up in his head.” He supported.

“What could it harm Blubs?” I spoke up finally, “Another set of eyes and ears. After all, if there is a maniac going round decapitating wax statues, I’d feel much better knowing someone was doing something about it.”

“Look, Mrs Pines,” Blubs faced me with a patronizing smile. “while I’d love for your little nephew here to help, let’s face it. He’s just a city boy.”

I stood, folding my arms as I stared back at Blubs.

“I’m sorry?”

“A city boy. You know, city boy thinks he’s gonna solve a mystery with his fancy computer phone!” Sheriff Blubs mocked, ignoring my tapping foot and tight smile.

“City boooy! City booooooy!” Deputy Durland chimed in, grinning dopily.

“He is adorable though.” Blubs chuckled.

“Adorable?” Dipper repeated, disgust on his face.

Blubs continued, despite the growing anger coming from both Stan and I.

“Look P.J.’s how about you leave the investigating to the grown-ups, okay?”

I was just about to explode and throw the two incompetent morons out of our house when a crackly message came through Blubs’ walkie-talkie.

_“Attention, all units! Steve is about to fit an entire cantaloupe in his mouth! Repeat, and entire cantaloupe!”_

Blubs and Durland looked at each other excitedly.

“It’s a 23-16!” Sheriff Blubs grabbed his belt.

“Let’s move!” Durland yelled. Both men took one last look at us all clustered around the wax statue and laughed as they ran from the room.

Still seething, I rested my hand against Stan before facing the twins.

“They’re idiots. We all know Dipper could solve this easily.” I reassured.

“That’s it Grauntie Carla!” Dipper straightened as tall as he could, determined look on his face. “Mabel, you and me are going to find the jerk who did this, and get back that head! Then we’ll see who’s adorable.”

Unfortunately, Dipper chose that moment to sneeze, the high pitched noise undermining his speech slightly.

Mabel smiled and pressed her hands against her cheeks.

“Aww, you sneeze like a kitten!”

Dipper groaned and I reached out to gently ruffle his hair.

“Come on detectives. It’s been a long day and you’ll want to be up early looking for clues. Time everyone went to bed.”

 

X

 

The next morning, I came down the stairs to hear Mabel and Dipper already setting up base in the living room. Staying hidden, I listened at the door.

“Wax Stan has lost his head and it’s up to us to find it.” Dipper certainly seemed to be taking this seriously.

“There were a lot of unhappy customers at the unveiling. The murderer could have been anyone.”

“Yeah! Even us!” Mabel exclaimed.

Shaking my head, I moved away from the door and walked through the museum to the front of the house. Pausing next to the newly set up wax statues, I frowned.

Hadn’t Sherlock Holmes been next to Shakespeare yesterday? Why was he next to Lizzie Borden? Speaking of Borden, didn’t she normally have something in her hands? I found I couldn’t remember.

Shaking my head, I pressed on. Finally getting outside, I realised Stan had returned from his “secret” morning errand.

“Hey. Wanna give me a hand?” He asked, getting out of the car.“Gotta a coffin for the funeral.”

Stan continued round to open the boot as I stared in disbelief.

“You’re kidding right? A funeral? For who?”

“Wax Stan o’course.” Stan stopped and stared at me like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying not to lose it.

“Stan, he’s a wax statue. We’re not having a funeral.”

“Alright, we’ll call it a memorial service.” Stan stared to drag a coffin out of the car, grunting slightly.

“Wait.” I grumbled, reluctantly joining him. “You’ll throw your back out again.”

Stan opened his mouth to reply when the twins bounded out of the shop, heading down the driveway.

“Hey, give us a hand with this coffin, will ya?” Stan called them over. “We’re doin’ a memorial service for Wax Stan. Somethin’ small, but classy!”

Mabel and Dipper exchanged a quick glance.

“Sorry Grunkle Stan, but we gotta big break in the case!” Dipper said in a rush.

“Break in the case!” Mabel echoed happily.

“We’re heading into town right now to interrogate the murderer!” Dipper turned to leave when Mabel grabbed the backpack he was wearing and rummaged around in it.

“We have an axe! REE, REE, REE!” she screech, swinging the axe.

I stared, unable to process what I was seeing.

Stan, apparently, did not have that problem.

“Hm, this sounds like the kind of thing that responsible parents wouldn’t want you to do... Good thing I’m an uncle!” Stan struck a heroic pose. “Avenge me kids! AVENGE MEEE!!”He yelled as the twins hurried down the driveway, soon disappearing out of sight.

“You just let them run away with an axe.” I said dully, as Stan turned to face me.

“They’ll be fine. They’re armed.” Stan shrugged and bent down to grab the coffin again. “Ya gonna help me here?”

“I’ll get Soos. He’s in the shop I think.” I looked in the directions the kids had ran. “Where did they even get that axe?”

“Maybe it was the murder weapon?” Stan suggested, giving up on moving the coffin alone.

“For the last time, there wasn’t a murder. It was an inanimate object Stan,” I  reminded him, “not a person.”

“Just go get Soos for me, will ya Carla?”

I rolled my eyes and obliged, figuring if Stan got this out of his system, we would never have to talk about it again.

 

X

“This is sick.” I said, standing in the door of the parlour. Stan had been busy all afternoon. A dais with the coffin on it had drapes set up behind it and a framed picture of Stan and Wax Stan took pride of place. Flowers were arranged neatly by it and Stan had found an old lectern somewhere to use for a eulogy speech. All the candles we owned were set up on every available flat surface, a completely unnecessary fire was burning merrily in the hearth and Stan had even set up a bereavement snack table.

Not to mention he’d arranged all the wax statues from the museum in rows as if they were mourners.

I was actually starting to worry about Stan’s sanity.

“So? Whaddya think? Think he’d like it?” Stan asked, coming up behind me.

“I think we’ve got to talk.” I turned and grabbed a hold of Stan’s jacket before he could run, dragging him further down the hall. “I could understand if this was just normal egomania... Hell, you have an ego the size of the moon. But we both know this has nothing to do with that, no matter what you’re telling the kids. I’m worried about you Stan. This feels wrong, wait. Where are the kids?” I suddenly derailed, realising I hadn’t heard them return from their morning trip into town.

Stan shrugged, tugging his jacket free.

“I thought you were the one keeping an eye on them? Isn’t Soos with them?”

“He’s been here all afternoon with you.” I whirled around and paced back down the hall to the back door. “Where are the keys? I’ll take the car and go see if they’re in town.”

As I opened the door, Stan’s protest was drowned out by the piercing wail of police sirens as Sheriff Blubs’ cruiser rolled up the driveway.

“Ah crap.” Stan huffed under his breath. “They realised I didn’t buy that coffin.”

“How did you even manage to get it out the,” I gave up, “you know what, I don’t care.”

“Why does Blubs have the kids?” Stan asked, frowning.

I groaned, hiding my eyes in my hand.

“Great, they’ve been here one week and you’ve corrupted them.”

“I told you it was a bad idea.”

God, Stan you are so- Sheriff Blubs! What’s the problem here?” I asked cheerily, staring with an arched eyebrow at Mabel and Dipper.

“Turns out city kids can’t magically solve crimes, now isn’t that right Durland?” Sheriff Blubs said over his shoulder to his partner.

“Hah, yup! Headline! City kids waste everyone’s time!” Deputy Durland laughed and Blubs joined in after a while.

Mabel pulled away from Blubs, tugging Dipper with her as she ran to me and buried her face against me.

“He’s been saying that all the way home.” Dipper said miserably.

“Uh oh.” Stan said quietly as I straightened and fixed Blubs with a glare.

“You listen to me Daryl Blubs. You too Edwin Durland.” I snapped, making both men stop laughing immediately. “Teasing two young children, shame on you both. Don’t you dare mock them when they’ve done more work today than either of you have in months! Now get off my property! Go on, get!”

I pointed firmly at the driveway as Blubs and Durland scrambled back into their cruiser and took off quickly.

“Right, well.” I took a breath, a hand resting on either of the twin’s shoulders. “Now you two can tell me where the heck you’ve been all afternoon!” I propelled them into the house, still mad.

“We were looking for Wax Stan’s murderer Grauntie Carla,” Mabel piped up, “and we were so sure we knew who it was.”

“Except I was wrong,” Dipper tucked his hands in his pockets sadly, “They were right. I’m just a kid.”

My heart softened and I pulled them both in for a hug.

“Kids, you can’t just run off like that and not let us know you’re going to be gone so long. I was worried about you.” I whispered.

“We’re sorry.” Mabel said, muffled against my cardigan.

“Yeah.”

I let them go and looked at Stan.

“Well, might as well go and do this memorial service then.” I said, “Everyone’s already sad, let’s go and have a good cry.”

 

X

 

Knowing exactly where Stan would have run off to for privacy, I snuck into the basement and was proved right as I stepped out of the elevator.

“You know, when I said have a good cry...” I started but left the sentence hanging as I caught sight of Stan crying by the console.

“Here.” I held out my handkerchief to him and slid an arm around him as Stan wiped his face.

“Sorry,” Stan muttered thickly, “jus’ standing there, body in the coffin... it got ta me, that’s all.”

“I know.” I soothed.

“It’s been thirty years Carla,” Stan stared blankly at the portal, “he’s not coming back is he?”

I hesitated.

Stan took my hesitation as an answer and sighed heavily.

“I know it’s crazy to think I coulda got him back. I’m not that smart and he was a genius, he built this... How was I suppose ta, I’ve been tryna fix it with duct tape! I should never have bothered to try. He’s gone.”

“We don’t know that.” I said weakly. Stan snorted.

“No. We don’t, that’s kinda the point here. We don’t know if he’s alive or d-de-” Stan swallowed and continued, “or gone, we don’t know if we can fix that stupid portal or not. And even if we do fix it, we don’t know who or what’s gonna step out of it. I mean what are the chances of it being Ford after all these years?” Stan slammed a hand down on the console, cursing in pain.

“Fuck! We should’ve left years ago and done what he wanted.”

I stayed quiet and took hold of Stan’s hand, rubbing over the red mark left by the console switches.

“It was crazy to think we’d get him back,” I started, staring at Stan’s hand rather than his face, “but it was Stan Pines kinda crazy. The kind of crazy where it just makes sense because Stan Pines could sell you anything. Do you really think I’d have stayed, or let you continue to work yourself to the bone if I didn’t think there was even a small chance of it working?”

“Baby...” Stan said quietly, but I wasn’t done.

“I don’t know what happened to Ford thirty years ago. But I do know that you two are more similar than either of you ever knew. If you’re indestructible, so is he. And I know that when we get that portal working again, he will step through it.”

“Ya really think so?” Stan laid his hand over mine gently.

“Yes. He might not be the same person we grew up with and he might be changed, scarred and thoroughly messed up after years of wherever he’s been, but it will be Ford who comes back. I’d bet my life.”

Stan chuckled weakly.

“No need to go that far I think. We’ll save the blood pacts for our back up plan.”

“Good idea.” I lifted a hand to Stan’s face and rested my palm against his cheek, my thumb stroking away the last of his tears.

“Everything’s gonna be ok hon.” I whispered. “Just wait and see. We’re gonna get him back.”

Stan choked back a fresh sob and leaned his forehead against mine, drawing his arms around me, crushing me against his front. I squeezed him back, mind reeling over what I’d just said.

Did I really believe that? That we’d be able to pull this off? Repair an insanely complex device with only half the blueprints and somehow track down a man (who could be dead for all we knew) and get him back? Where would the portal even open up too? Would we get Ford back?

“I love you Carla.” Stan whispered, hand stroking my hair.

I smiled into his jacket and tried to ignore the nagging in the back of my mind.

“I love you too Stan.” I leaned back and kissed him softly. “We should get back upstairs, the kids might be looking for us.”

Stan frowned.

“Oh. Not a good idea.”

“No, not really.” I reluctantly slid out of Stan’s grip, only to have him grab my hand tightly as we headed back to the elevator.

 

Stan I reached the parlour, only to be greeted by a spectacular mess.

“Hot Belgian waffles!” Stan swore. “What happened to the parlour?!”

“Your wax figures turned out to be evil, so we fought them to the death!” Mabel grinned cheerily, smudged in wax.

“I decapitated Larry King.” Dipper crowed, hands behind his back.

I glanced at Stan. Probably best to just go with it.

“Knew those statues were no good.” I said with a smile.

“Ha ha! You kids and your imaginations!” Stan praised shamelessly.

Dipper pulled Wax Stan’s head from behind his back.

“On the bright side, though, look what we found.” He smiled as he handed the head to Stan.

“My head!” Stan laughed. “I missed this guy! You done good kids.” Stan tossed me the head, my fingers fumbling as I caught the creepy thing.

“Alright, line up for some affectionate noogie-ing.” Stan declared, approaching the twins.

Both twins backed away with grimaces on their faces.

“Oh, I’m not, not so sure about that...”

“Oh, uh... I’m not really..

“Any alternative?”

Stan laughed triumphantly as he grabbed hold of the two kids and noogied them until they were all laughing.

I looked down at the head I was holding and smiled.

Guess one extra Stan in the house wasn’t THAT creepy.


	16. June 2012 - A Birthday Party to Remember

June 2012

 

I entered the recently cleared exhibition space just in time to see the twins and Wendy squirting each other with silly string before Mabel tossed handfuls gold confetti over Stan’s head with a laugh.

“Comedy GOLD!” She yelled happily as I walked over to join them.

Chuckling to myself, I laid a hand on Stan’s arm before brushing away a few stray pieces of confetti from his shoulder. Stan was not as amused as I was. I knew why and I simply patted his arm without another word as I saw the small note scrawled along the bottom of the paper he was holding.

_“We’d be 62 today...”_

Stan caught sight of me staring at the note and tore it off quickly with a loud cough before turning his attention to the kids.

“Alright, alright! Party supplies are now off limits!” Stan announced grumpily, snatching the silly string and confetti away.

Rolling my eyes, I moved away to the nearby table and dragged a box out from underneath with some difficulty.

“I got it Mrs Pines.” Soos gently nudged me to the side and lifted the box with ease. I smiled gratefully.

“Thank you hon. My knees aren’t what they used to be.” I pulled the box open and began unloading the cups as Soos climbed back up the nearby ladder to continue decorating.

“So Mr Pines, whose birthday is it again?” He asked as Stan walked over to dump the cans into an empty box.

“Nobody’s.” He replied. “Thought this party might be a good way to get kids to spend money at the Shack!” Stan unrolled a poster of a donkey with multiple, attachable tails.

Liar, I thought to myself as I continued to place cups and soda bottles out on the table. I knew full well whose birthday it was, and that he wanted to throw a party to celebrate with his great niece and nephew while they were visiting. But of course, we weren’t allowed to tell them... like so many other things in this house.

While I’d been busy, Dipper and Mabel had wandered over and Dipper had poured his sister a drink from one of the soda bottles.

Stan leaned forward and recapped the bottle before Dipper could pour his own.

“Hey, hey! For the party. How’s about ya gremlins make yourselves useful and copy these flyers?” Stan shoved a stack of flyers towards Mabel and Dipper.

“Oh boy, a trip to the copier store!” Mabel cried happily as Soos placed his arms around the two kids.

“Calendars, mugs, t-shirts and more! They got it all at the copier store!” Soos straightened up with a slight frown. “That’s not their slogan, I just really feel that way about the copier store.”

I smiled at Soos’ antics and caught sight of Stan’s grumpy face. I stopped my smile and simply waited for the moment I could call Stan out on his attitude.

“Save the trouble.” Stan interrupted Soos, “Ya know the old copier in my office? I finally fixed the old girl up! Good as new!”

I rolled my eyes. Stan’s idea of fixing that old thing had been to hit it with a broom for an hour, slap some duct tape on the dents and then use some of Ford’s more unidentifiable tools to fiddle with the wiring. I’d be surprised if it would even start.

As Stan shooed Mabel and Dipper away to the office, Soos grabbed another armload of decorations and climbed back up the ladder.

Sensing my chance, I caught Stan’s arm and pulled him to the side.

“You’re laying on the grumpy old man schtick a little thick.” I smiled warmly. Stan sighed and glanced over his shoulder at where Wendy had begun helping Soos decorate.

“It’s the first time I’ve celebrated my birthday with family in years.”

“What am I? The neighbour?” I teased. Stan pulled a face.

“Ya know what I mean. And anyway, we’ve never actually called it my birthday. It sorta became our wedding anniversary.”

“True.” I conceded. “Which the kids don’t know either... I think we’re celebrating things wrong here.”

Stan chuckled and kissed my forehead.

“Just you wait. I’ll knock ya socks off tonight with this party. Gravity Falls ain’t gonna know what hit it.”

I simply smiled as Mabel and Dipper came back, flyerless and looking a little cagey.

Before I could ask what was wrong, Stan was straight back to bossing everyone around.

“Alright party people... and Dipper.”

I thwacked Stan on the arm and wandered back over to the snack and drinks table. I knew what I needed to do, Stan wasn’t going to order me around.

“...and you begged, I’m letting you be DJ.”

“You won’t regret it Mr Pines.” Soos exulted. “I got this book to teach me how to DJ R-R-Right!”

“Not encouraging. Wendy, you and Mabel will work the ticket stand.”

I winced, this was not going to go down well with Mabel.

“What? But Grunkle Stan, this party is my chance to make new friends!” Mabel complained.

“I... I could work with Wendy.” Dipper cautiously offered.

Now that wasn’t a surprise. Everyone knew Dipper had a massive crush on Wendy. It was sort of sweet and certainly reminded me a lot of Stan at that age.

I listened absently as Stan set out the rules for Dipper, ordering him to stay at the table all night, and fought the urge to laugh. Like that was going to happen. I already had a bet with Soos that Wendy would ditch the ticket sales after the first 30 minutes. Dipper probably wouldn’t be staying there for much longer after that.

I smiled, Stan was right. Tonight was going to be a lot of fun.

 

X

 

“Can your uncle throw a party or what?”

I could hear Stan bragging as I made my way towards the garishly lit exhibition hall. As I pushed through the streamer curtain, I saw Stan and Mabel leaning on the banister, looking out over the hall.

“And if anyone wants to leave, I’m charging an exit fee of 15 bucks!” Stan crowed. I rolled my eyes and joined the pair, slipping an arm through Stan’s and resting a hand on top of Mabel’s head.

“Isn’t that little Lee with Nate over there?” I asked, squinting across the room to where two teenagers were banging on the windows rather desperately.

“Eh. I dunno.” Stan dismissed.

“You look really pretty Grauntie Carla.” Mabel piped up. I tugged a wayward strand of her hair gently.

“Thank you sweet. I love your earrings. And I’m glad you found a use for that ribbon.” I smiled at the young girl.

“Anything can be a fashion accessory!” Mabel yelled happily, doing a small dance. “I’m going to go and make friends! And then impress them with my AWESOME dancing skills!” Mabel bounded down the stairs into the crowded room.

I sighed, taking in the amount of people packed in here.

“We’re too old for this.” Stan muttered quietly, as if reading my mind.

“Remember our nights at the Juke Joint?” I asked, smiling slightly. “We hardly ever stopped dancing.”

“We were younger. And the music was better.” Stan tightened his arm around me as I laughed.

“You’re such an old man Pines. What happened to you?” I teased.

Before Stan could answer back, a particularly raucous set of noises echoed around the room and Stan flinched, raising a hand to his ear.

“Kitchen?” I asked as the noise died down.

“I doubt even that’s safe. Outside?” Stan countered as we slipped back through the curtain.

“It’s warm enough, I think the kids can handle things in here.” I agreed as we walked back through the halls to the back door.

As we passed by the side table, I quickly grabbed the small, wrapped gift box from the drawer. Joining Stan outside on the back porch, I presented him with the box.

Stan gave me a wary look as I waggled the box enticingly, an excited smile bubbling onto my face.

“I said no presents Carla.” Stan reprimanded gently. I shrugged easily.

“Since when did I do what you tell me too? This is only the 8th time I’ve broken your dumb rule.”

“8 times too many.” Stan grumbled but took the box from me anyway. Weighing the box in his hand, Stan fell silent and I sighed impatiently.

A dull thumping started inside the house. Through the still-open back door, we could hear Soos announcing some sort of competition.

“Remember dudes... whoever, um, party hardies, what? Um, gets the party crown! Most applause at the end of the night wins!”

“Wanna bet Mabel goes for that crown?” Stan asked absently.

“Bet she wins.” I countered.

“Kiss on it?”

“Always.”

Stan gently wrapped an arm around me and kissed me gently.

“Thank you baby.”

“For what?” I asked, leaning against Stan.

“This.” Stan tucked the small box in his back pocket. I smiled against him and just sighed happily.

The music continued to thump inside the house.

“Looks like it’s getting wild inside.” I said quietly. “We’re sure the kids can handle things in there?”

“Mm? Oh, yeah. They’re good for it.” Stan replied distantly. “ Though, that reminds me, gotta make sure Dipper hasn’t tried to skip out on me.” Stan moved away from me and I pulled a face at the loss of his arms around me.

“You’re not actually going to force him to stay there all night are you?” I asked, sitting on the old sofa. “Seems unfair.”

Hey! The kid made a promise!” Stan waved a finger accusingly. “And a promise is a promise!”

As if to back himself up, Stan pulled a small handheld recorder from his pocket.

“Oh Stan, you didn’t.” I sighed, knowing immediately why Stan had it.

“He can’t get out of this Carla.” Stan said firmly and walked off around the side of the house.

“Why hello Filbrick. It’s nice to see you again.” I muttered, once Stan was safely out of earshot. God knows, I knew why Stan was so hard on Dipper. Stan wanted Dipper to be better than he and Fo-, well, he just wanted Dipper to be able to fight back when things got hard. And Stan knew all about having to fight back.

Still, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Filbrick’s harsh nature whenever Stan demanded Dipper do something without argument.

“Good thing I went round. The kid had tried to get out of his responsibility!” Stan grumbled as he came back to the porch.

“Can you blame him? Everyone he knows, or that is his age, is inside having fun. And some grumpy old man is making him work the ticket stand all night.” I smiled.

“Hey. He said he’d do it.” Stan plonked himself down next to me with a quiet ‘oof’. We sat in relative silence for a while, the dull thumping of loud music battling with the local crickets.

“Carla...” Stan started, “you reckon Ford knows it’s our birthday?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” I admitted sadly. “But I hope he does.”

“62... Never thought I’d make it this far.” Stan said, taking the old fez off his head and spinning it in his fingers.

“Well that’s cheerful.” I teased. “Here you are with a successful business, a warm home, loving family, and a beautiful wife I may add, and you’re moping about being old.”

Stan chuckled.

“There’s gotta be a catch. Always is.”

“What if the catch is that after years of misery, you actually get to just be happy?” I swung my legs up and tucked them over Stan’s.

“Nah. Can’t be happy, not yet. Once he’s back, then I can be happy.” Stan murmured. I felt the old surge of hurt attempt to resurface and pushed it back with practised ease.

I knew Stan didn’t mean he wasn’t happy with me and now with the twins. I saw the way his face lit up whenever Mabel came screaming into the room, or the sad smile he got when he saw Dipper pouring over books... Stan just wanted to right the wrongs of the past. I knew that better than anyone.

A high pitched voice suddenly rang through the house.

“Always means forever! ALWAAAAAYYSS!”

“Yikes. Who’s that?” Stan muttered, rubbing his ear.

“No idea. But if that’s who Mabel's up against, Mabel’s gonna win.”

As if in cue, a very 80’s pop melody started and Stan and I grinned at each other.

“Mabel.” We said together just as Mabel’s voice could be heard.

“Don’t start UN-BELIEVING! Never don’t not feel your feelings!”

There was a loud cheer.

“That’s my pumpkin.” Stan sighed happily.

“WATCH ME DO A FLIP!” Mabel screamed before a sudden pause. “THAT WAS FOR YOU GUYS!”

“She’s gotta win that crown.” I smiled.

“Reckon we could bribe Soos to rig the scores?” Stan asked.

“Absolutely not. If our girl is going to win, she’s going to do it on her own.” I smacked him lightly, Stan chuckling as he looked at the ground. We fell into an easy silence that had been perfected over 30 years, before Stan sighed and looked back at me with a sad expression.

“You’re too good for me Mrs Pines,” Stan whispered, as I met his eyes. “Ya’ve put up with my corrupt ass for far too long.”

“So give me a medal.” I quipped, reaching out and stroking his cheek. “I’ll put up with you every day from now until we die... and maybe a few days afterwards. Just to make sure it’s not a scam.”

Stan laughed loudly, making my heart swell slightly to see the sadness fall from his face at the sound. It might not be the most permanent change, but I was glad I could still make him feel better.

All of a sudden, the music inside changed. A much slower tune started. Stan grinned and stood up, my legs being pushed to one side unceremoniously.

“What are you doing?” I asked, watching as Stan walked to the back door and opened it fully.

The music became clearer, Soos had decided to play a slow song.

“Whaddya say baby? Fancy a twirl?” Stan offered, childlike grin on his face.

How could I say no? Especially tonight?

Without a word, I nodded and giggled as Stan pulled me to my feet and spun me closer.

No words were needed as we settled into a familiar dance, swaying together as easily as we had all those years ago.

“So what’s the present?” Stan asked quietly, mouth resting just above my ear.

“You’ll have to wait and see.” I teased. “That’s kinda the point of wrapping it.”

“Spoilsport.” Stan grinned as he twirled me under his arm and out before bringing me back with an ease that would have surprised the twins if they could see us. I pretended to swoon as Stan held me tight to his chest.

“We should be showing these dance moves off inside.” I suggested. Stan pulled a face as the slow song ended, only to be replaced by a much louder, modern song.

“And try to dance to this racket? No thank you.” I stuck my tongue out at him and turned in his arms to kiss him again.

“You’re such an old man.”

“An old man who’s hungry. We save any of the good food for ourselves?” Stan asked.

“Of course. In the fridge. But I’m afraid if you want any of the sweet stuff, you’re going to have to risk the noise. Mabel beat me too it and took everything to the snack tables earlier.”

“Hah. She’s a quick learner.” Stan crowed proudly as we wandered back inside.

I smiled at a few of the local teenagers milling in the hallway, most of them waving in return.

“Oh, I forgot something,” I pulled away from Stan. “I’ll be right back.”

I turned toward the stairs and almost bumped into a texting teen.

“Hey Mrs Pines.” The teen said without raising her head.

“Hello Tambry. Nice to see you.”

“Have you seen Wendy?”

“I thought she was on the ticket stand.” I replied, celebrating in my head. Soos had lost our bet.

“Nope.”

“Check the dance floor. She may be with Mabel.” I smiled and excused myself before heading upstairs.

 

Coming back down with a second surprise gift for Stan, I headed into the kitchen only to find it empty.

“Huh. Must of gone for the sweet stuff already.” I muttered out loud, turning to leave the kitchen when I was suddenly blocked by Dipper.

“H-hey Grauntie Carla!” He announced, throwing his arms wide.

“Hello Dipper.” I smiled. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Hm? Oh! Yeah! Yes. Just.. don’t tell Grunkle Stan I snuck away from the tickets.” Dipper rubbed the back of his neck in a very familiar way and I reached over to pat his cheek.

“Absolutely. You have my word.” I straightened and noticed the number 2 scrawled on his hat. Why did he have that there? Must be something he and Mabel were doing.

“Hey, uh, Grauntie Carla?” Dipper asked nervously. “Could, could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure thing sweetheart.” I sat at the table and patted it encouragingly. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, you see, there’s this girl... and, well, I like her, a LOT, but...”

“Are we talking about Wendy?” I asked, cutting in.

Dipper’s eyes widened and I smiled.

“Is- is it that obvious?” Dipper asked, his voice cracking slightly.

I waggled my hand.

“Let’s just say, the Pines men wear their hearts on their sleeves. And I’ve known your Grunkle Stan since he was your age. Even longer actually. You’re just like he was.”

Dipper screwed up his face.

“Grunkle Stan? No way. There’s no way he ever got awkward around girls.”

I laughed.

“Dipper, Stan had a crush on me at your age. He’d hide behind his br- friends whenever I walked past.” I caught myself just in time. Thankfully Dipper hadn’t noticed.

“Really?”

“Really. That went on for years! And I knew the whole time. Dipper?” I asked as Dipper suddenly went rigid.

“Wait! You knew! The whole time that Grunkle Stan liked you?! Oh man, oh man, OH MAN! Sorry Grauntie Carla! I gotta go and, and, sorry!” Dipper apologised frantically as he dashed from the kitchen, leaving me blinking after him in perplexity.

“I gotta tell Mabel to stop feeding that boy sugar.” I muttered. “Speaking of which,” I glanced down at the bag of toffee peanuts I’d successfully hidden from Stan for the past week, “time to surprise Stan.”

Walking through the house, I checked all the usual spots for Stan.

Not upstairs, not in the gift shop (I wasn’t going to risk the basement with some many people here; and I doubted Stan would have gone down there.), not up on the roof where Wendy snuck off too during the day, not in any of the storage rooms, not out on the back porch... not even in the hidden room behind the old bookcase...

Walking back to the exhibition room, I paused as I heard Dipper talking to someone.

“Say it! Say I can dance with Wendy!”

“Never!”

It sounded like he was fighting... with himself?

I glanced out at the party and caught sight of Wendy with Robbie Valentino. Oh no.

Dipper’s first crush might end in his first heartbreak.

Dipper’s fighting seemed to have stopped and I heard his footsteps walk away. Peering around the corner, I saw soggy lumps of paper on the floor and a scrap of paper with the number 7 on it.

“I don’t need to know.” I eventually decided, tossing the scrap of paper over my shoulder and entering the party.

Soos had cut the music and was calling for everyone’s attention as Mabel climbed up on stage next to a very blonde, very well dressed child.

I caught Wendy’s arm quickly.

“Who is that? Up there with Mabel?” I asked.

“Who? Oh, that's Pacifica Northwest. Her family live up in that huge mansion,” Wendy filled in, “her and Mabel have been battling it out all night Mrs Pines.”

“So that’s the Northwest’s daughter,” I muttered, “let’s hope our Mabel beats her then.”

“Oh she totally will.” Wendy agreed. “Mabel’s the coolest!”

I patted Wendy’s arm and let her go back to talking with Robbie as I made my way to the side of the crowd in time to hear Soos announce the voting.

“Let the party crown voting commence!” He hit a button on his keyboard and a bell dinged. “Applaud for Mabel!” Soos called as he moved to stand behind the two girls.

I clapped as hard as I could, smiling as I heard the volume of the crowd’s cheering around me. Stan appeared by my side, out of seemingly nowhere, clapping loudly and adding a whistle for good measure.

“Let’s check the applause meter.” Soos smiled and raised his hand above Mabel’s head as she beamed happily. “Oh, oh... pretty good!”

I smiled. Surely Pacifica couldn’t beat that right?

“And the next contestant; Pacifica!” Soos called.

The people around us clapped reluctantly, a few scattered coughs. I found myself clapping quietly. Didn’t want to make it too obvious I was biased.

Pacifica gave us all a dirty look and suddenly people were clapping louder, slowly growing to the same pitch that Mabel had received.

“Oh come on!.” Stan complained next to me. “That’s hardly fair.”

I had to agree with him. Soos seemed to be struggling as he looked at his raised hands.

“Uh-oh, a tie! This has like, never happened before.”

Pacifica scowled and hopped off the stage, walking over to where, somehow, Old Man McGucket had gotten inside and was sleeping on the chairs. She waved a dollar under his nose and he woke up, applauding along with everyone else while laughing manically.

“Oh, that’s just plain cheating!” Stan bitched in my ear, “And why didn’t I think of that?”

I shrugged sadly as Soos measured slightly higher above Pacifica’s head.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we – we have a winner,” Soos announced sadly, “the winner of the contest is, Pacifica Northwest.”

Soos handed Pacifica the crown and I smiled encouragingly at Mabel as she glanced at us. No matter what, she was the winner in our eyes.

All of a sudden, the crowd dispersed as Pacifica announced something about a boat, everyone chanting “Pacifica” as they ran passed.

“Sycophants.” I muttered, shaking Old Man McGucket awake again and pointing in the direction of the door. He hooted and ran out in his crab-step, lurching way as Stan joined me.

“Whadda we say to her?” He asked nervously as we watched Mabel talking to two young girls sadly. Strangely enough, they didn’t look disappointed. One of them pulled a magazine out of her back pack and Mabel’s face split into a grin.

“Really? You GUYS!” She exclaimed.

“I think she’s gonna be ok.” I smiled as Mabel called for Soos to play another song. “Though you might want to turn that hearing aid off. I think they’re staying the night.”

“Huh?” Stan grunted, counting through a wad of cash he’d got from somewhere. I smacked him playfully, still smiling. Stan grinned and I realised I was still holding his surprise.

“Oh. I almost forgot. Mabel didn’t get all the candy.” I said, holding the bag up. Stan’s eyes lit up.

“Toffee peanuts! Where’d you, you’re the best Carla baby!”

“I know.” I agreed simply as Stan tucked the cash away into his pocket before taking the packet off me.

Over his shoulder, I noticed Dipper had come back inside from wherever he’d been.

“Dipper! Where have you been?! Meet my girlfriends!” She screamed, bounding over to him and dragging him over to dance. Wendy laughed and joined in with the wild dancing.

Stan glanced over at the kids, down at the toffee peanuts and then finally back at me. A devilish grin spread over his face and he tossed the bag onto a chair behind us.

“Whaddya say baby? Wanna show these kids how to really dance?” He dared, raising an eyebrow at me. I grinned back.

“Absolutely Mr Pines.”

“Hey Soos!” Stan yelled above the music. “Ya know the record I gave ya? Put it on!”

“Yes sir!” Soos saluted before flipping a record over his shoulder and slamming it down.

Mabel, Dipper, Wendy and the other girls looked confused as the music was cut off only to be replaced with very 50’s music.

Stan swung us easily, a permanent smile on his face as we lindy-bopped our way through several tracks, Mabel and her friends soon joining in as Dipper stared in shock next to Wendy who was laughing and talking photos. When we finally spun to a stop, Stan dipping me as low as his back would allow, I couldn’t help bursting into peals of laughter as the kids applauded. Actually applauded!

“Not bad for 62.” I whispered as Stan set me back on my feet. Stan just grinned, panting slightly and fez crooked.

I pecked his cheek as Soos began playing more modern music.

 

X

 

“Well, the girls are finally asleep. They might make more noise on sugar, but they fall asleep faster too.” I commented, walking into the gift shop. Stan was leaning against the counter, staring blankly at the shelves of merchandise. I brought the plate I’d been hiding, out from behind my back.

“Stan?”

Stan jerked and turned to face me, face going slack as he saw what I was holding. I noticed he was already wearing the new gold chain I’d got him.

“I know it’s not much, but it should be pretty tasty. Susan made it.” I said, holding the piece of pie further up. I’d even managed to find an old birthday candle and stuck it in the top.

Stan stared at the dessert and then gave me a watery smile.

“Carla...” he started but I cut him off as I rummaged in my pocket.

“Wait, wait! There!” I flicked the lighter and lit the candle. Stan huffed a small laugh and I shrugged.

“Took it off Wendy. She’s developing some strange habits. You know I actually caught her hotwiring the golf cart the other day.”

Stan had the decency to look guilty.

“Heh, about that...”

“She told me. I believe this is your old lighter by the way.” I grinned and tossed the lighter at a shocked Stan. “You may have taught her a little too well. Now blow out the candle before wax gets on the pie!”

Stan leaned forward and blew out the candle. I turned with a smile and placed the plate on the counter.

“You wanna know what I wished for?” Stan asked, snaking his arms around me from behind.

“I know what you wished for.” I rested my arms over his, relishing the feel of Stan’s broad chest behind me.

“Oh yeah?”

“For Ford to come home.” I said quietly, glancing quickly at the door to the house. Stan chuckled, hot breath ghosting over my neck and, despite our age, I still shivered.

“How does it feel to be wrong?”

“Huh?” I blinked in the dark. I wasn’t right? It’s what Stan always wished for... every shooting star, every snapped wishbone, everything.

“I wished that I would never lose you.” Stan continued, cheek resting against my head. “Never lose the one person in my life who’s always been there, always put up with me, always patched me up, always loved me.”

I felt tears come to my eyes and swallowed against the lump in my throat.

“Stan...” I whispered, voice catching slightly. Stan tightened his grip on me and I batted his arm lightly.

Romance was all well and good, but at this age, practicality came first.

“Stan! I can’t breathe!”

“Oh, right.” Stan relaxed slightly and I leaned my head back against him with a sigh.

“You’re such an old softie.” I teased, taking a quick look at the vending machine as an idea came to mind. “You wanna take a night off?”

Stan glanced in the same direction as me and sighed.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

“It is your birthday and my wedding anniversary,” I encouraged, “let’s just play hookie and go to bed early.”

Stan gave me an amused smirk as he let me go.

“Carla, it’s 12 in the morning.”

“That is early for those of us trying to fix a dimension opening portal.” I quipped, picking up the plate again. “Besides, I have p-i-e.” I sang as I darted back to the house, hearing Stan’s footfalls behind me.

“Happy Birthday love.” I whispered as he caught up with me in the lounge, wrapping his arms around me before kissing me sweetly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Journal 3 states that Stan's birthday is the 15th of June, which is generally thought to be the same date as the Double Dipper episode :)  
> Sneaky Stan, celebrating his birthday without telling anyone!  
> Also, Stan taught Wendy how to hot wire cars and pick pocket... he'd have been a terrible influence on his own kids!


	17. July 2012 - This Seems Like a Good Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Straight after the events of "Land Before Swine", Carla finds out that Stan stole a dinosaur egg from the old mines.  
> Surely, there's no way this could be a good idea...  
> (as documented in Journal 3)

July 2012

 

“Ow! Holy Moses Carla, stop yanking!”

I huffed in frustration as Stan pulled away from me, yet again.

“God Stan. Even Mabel didn’t complain this much.” I reached out and tugged him back in the chair. “Now hold still. I’m almost done.”

Squeezing a dollop of dishwashing liquid into my hand, I began to massage it into Stan’s hair once again as he continued to grumble. Working around the last, large clump of sap, I winced as my nails snagged a tangle, causing Stan to yelp.

“Sorry, sorry! Almost done.” I soothed as I grabbed the comb. Working slowly, I gently separated the sap from Stan’s hair. Lost in my task of dragging the comb through Stan’s damp, grey locks, I almost missed the relaxed sigh he emitted. I smiled. Good.

“This is all your own fault you know.” I said, replacing the comb with my fingers. An action that was not missed by Stan, his shoulders slumping further as he relaxed even more under my hands.

“Yeah, yeah.” He murmured, eyes slipping shut. “Worth it to see the look on Mabel’s face when she got that pig back though.”

Didn’t I know it.

Mabel had excitedly recounted Waddles’ rescue while I was combing sap from her hair earlier. Her explosive description of Stan’s heroics, combined with her overeager re-enactment of Stan punching a pterodactyl in the face, had left me covered in splatters of soap.

Which reminded me...

Reaching past Stan, I tossed the soapy comb into the sink.

“Hands mister.” I ordered.

Stan chuckled and lifted his arms.

Taking a gentle hold, I examined the knuckles on both hands. Hardly grazed.

“You’re lucky. I don’t need to use the disinfectant. Just don’t make a habit of punch pterodactyls.” I smiled, brushing my lips against the back of his hand.

“Lucky’s my middle name doll.” Stan twisted to look at me as I let go of his hands. I rolled my eyes.

“Uh huh. You really must be lucky. I haven’t killed you for bring home a dinosaur egg.”

“Eugh. This again.”

“Stan. You brought home a dinosaur egg with the plan to hatch it. Even after three movies about why you should never do that.”

Stan waved his hand.

“Those Hollywood movies always exaggerate.”

I sighed and ran my fingers through his hair once more.

“If we get chased by a T-Rex, I’m tripping you first.” I muttered, “IF it even hatches.”

“Deal.” Stan gave me a roguish grin and I felt my heart melt slightly.

“Wanna kiss on it?” I asked.

“Every time.” Stan murmured as I leaned down and kissed him.

Separating with a contented hum, I wiped soap suds from my face.

“Ok. Shower.” I ordered, grabbing the hand towel and making sure I was clean of soap again.

“Ok, ok. Can ya check on the egg for me though?” Stan asked, standing and tugging his white vest over his head.

“Humph. Trust me not to turn the heat lamps off?” I teased, only half joking.

“Yeah, sure toots.” Stan was no longer paying attention, busy fiddling with the water temperature of the old shower.

I turned away and walked down the hall, muttering to myself.

“Of course Stan would bring home an unidentifiable dinosaur egg after being attacked by a giant flying lizard! And of course he’s going to try and hatch it to make a bit of extra cash from gullible idiots who’d be convinced that a hairless cat painted green and given back spikes was a real dinosaur. There’s no way _this_ could go badly.”

 

X

 

Rousing slowly from sleep, I refused to open my eyes as I rolled over against Stan’s still sleeping bulk. Stan made a sleepy grunt and I wrapped an arm around his stomach, loving the feel of the comforting, soft pudge under my arm.

As I snuggled closer, my fingertips gazed something sharp and brittle next to Stan’s side.

Confused, but still reluctant to open my eyes, I gingerly felt around further. Whatever it was, it had splintered into several pieces.

Had Stan left a mug or glass in the bed again?

Running my fingers along the edge of one of the larger pieces, I frowned. It didn’t feel sharp enough to be either of those.

And was that... was that slime?

“Stan? Stan.” I whispered, shaking Stan slightly.

Stan let out a loud “blort” and smacked his lips, still asleep and clearly oblivious to whatever it was in the bed.

A soft shuffling suddenly came from the corner of the room.

I froze, eyes snapping open as a rush of fear flowed through me.

The shuffling continued as I cast around for various explanations.

Could Waddles or Gompers have gotten in during the night? Gompers had got in before, often leaving old tin cans, half-chewed pine cones, or even pissed off gnomes in our bedroom.

“Gompers?” I said quietly.

The shuffling stopped.

I sat up, my eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room.

“Gompers boy?” I tried again.

A misshapen lump over by the cupboard moved, a muffled noise coming from under it. I sighed and swung my feet out of the bed.

“How do you keep getting in boy? I’m starting to think you actually can... pick... locks...” My voice trailed off a small, lizard-like head popped out of the lump (a pile of discarded clothing I realised numbly). The head twitched and swung from side to side as two bright eyes swivelled wildly, trying to focus on me.

My heart thumped erratically. Was that, was I actually... Was that Stan’s dinosaur?!

The pile of clothing moved as the creature shifted its weight, slowly stretching and standing. It snapped its jaws, revealing tiny pointed teeth as a high pitched chirping emerged from its mouth.

Showing surprising agility for my age, I leapt onto the bed with a strangled shriek. Stan bolted up, wide awake, as I fell on top of him.

“OOF! Jesus Carla! What the hell’s got into ya?”

I flapped a hand at him.

“Sssh-Shush! We have a small problem!” I hissed. Stan rubbed his eyes with a groan.

“It’s too early to deal with gnomes.” He grumbled.

“It’s bigger than a gnome I think.” I warned, peering over the edge of the bed.

“A goblin?” Stan asked.

He got a high pitched chittering in response. Stan jolted to his knees, causing me to land back on my side of the bed.

“Hot Belgian waffles! What is that thing?!”

“I think it’s your dinosaur. What on earth possessed you to bring it into our bedroom?!”

“I didn’t! Did I?” Stan glanced down as I grabbed one of the shards, knowing now that it must be eggshell.

“It looks like you- Arrggh!” I yelled as the small dinosaur poked it’s head over the edge of the bed inquisitively.

“Ohmy gosh! OHMYGOSH!

“Woah! It hatched!”

“Told you it would totally work!”

The dinosaur screeched and darted back under the pile of clothing, only its tail showing, as Mabel and Dipper bounded through the door.

“We heard yelling.” Dipper explained as he climbed onto the bed and began examining the egg shell pieces.

“So we guessed the egg had hatched during the night and that there was a sweet baby dino running around.” Mabel was watching the waggling tail with stars in her eyes.

“Wait. You knew about this? Did you two put the egg in our bed?” I asked, incredulous, but still keeping one eye on the pile of clothing.

“Well, the heat lamp thingy didn’t seem like it was hot enough, so we decided to put it under Grunkle Stan instead. You know, since he has that whole body humidity thing going on.” Mabel perched herself on the end of the bed, therefore she missed the scalding glare Stan gave me as I tried to stifle a snort of laughter.

“Great. Thanks kid.” Stan grumbled.

At the sound of Stan’s voice, the dinosaur dragged itself out of the pile of clothing.

“It’s so beautiful...” Mabel breathed.

“I wonder what species it is.” Dipper scrambled over to Mabel.

“ _I_ want it out of my bedroom.” I said pointedly. “Since you two put it in here, you two can think of an way to get it out.”  
Mabel glanced at her brother.

“Laundry hamper bro-bro?”

“Laundry hamper,” Dipper agreed. “And a long stick.”

“I’ll get the broom!” Mabel bounced out of the room and returning before anyone had even moved.

The dinosaur was still watching us, head swinging madly to try and keep us all in sight. Its tail twitched slightly as Dipper snuck across the room to grab the laundry hamper.

“Be careful kids.” Stan warned, slowly climbing off the bed to help them. The dinosaurs head swung immediately to follow Stan’s movements. A strange idea formed in my head.

“Stan,” I hissed, “Stan. Take two steps to the right and then one to the left.”

“What?” Stan gave me a confused look.

“Just do it!”

Stan shrugged but did as I’d said.

Once again, the dinosaur followed Stan’s movements perfectly.

“I see it Grauntie Carla!” Dipper whispered loudly. “It’s focused on Grunkle Stan.” He paused, glancing around the room. “We can use that to catch it. Grunkle Stan! Do the Stan Wrong song!”

Stan grumbled something incoherent, but started to dance half-heartedly anyway.

As the dinosaur crept closer to Stan, head focused only on the movements Stan was making, Mabel and Dipper snuck up behind it before slamming the hamper down quickly over the dinosaur. A distressed whine came from inside and I hurried over with a blanket. Throwing the blanket over the upturned hamper, we listened as the dinosaur settled down, making a low chirping.

“Alright!” Dipper punched the air excitedly. “We caught a dinosaur!”

“Yes, but what do we do with a dinosaur?” I asked.

Everyone fell quiet.

“Let’s just get it somewhere else huh?” Stan proposed. “Kids, reckon you can handle this downstairs?”

“Stan?!” I was shocked he’d ask them to handle a potentially dangerous creature alone.

“It’s ok Grauntie Carla.” Dipper reassured. “We’ve got this. It’s pretty small.”

“Is that normal?” Mabel asked, trying to peer through the side of the hamper.

“Dunno, it has just hatched I suppose.” Dipper rubbed his chin. “Guess we should try to figure out what type of dinosaur it is, you know, before it eats us.”

“That might be nice. Downstairs it is then!” Stan announced.

Working together, we managed to turn the hamper right way up, blanket clamped tightly on top and one dinosaur still happily contained inside.

“Ok. Come on little guy!” Mabel cooed, gripping the edge of the hamper as the dinosaur chattered back quietly.

“We should go and help ‘em out... ya know, responsible adults and all.” Stan offered, guilty grin on his face. I grabbed his arm as he went to walk past.

“Not yet. I need a word with you.”

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look as they handled the laundry hamper out of the room.

“We’ll just, uh, leave you two to it.” Mabel clicked the door shut with one last glance at us.

Stan tugged his arm free.

“Now, Carla, I know what ya gon-”

“What was your end game here?” I interrupted, reaching for a pair of pants from the dresser.

Stan sighed.

“I dunno. It seemed like a good idea.”

“Of course it did.” I muttered, continuing to get dressed. “Now we have a dinosaur.  Any ideas about what to do now?”

“Well, we could just keep it? Seemed harmless enough.” Stan shrugged, pulling his bath robe on. I stopped and stared at him, holding the new sweater Mabel had made me.

“Did you not see those tiny, sharp teeth?” I asked. “I suppose they’re just for when the leaves fight back, right?”

“It seemed happy enough with the twins. It hasn’t even tried to eat anyone.”

“For now. What happens when it turns out to be a vicious carnivore who grows to be the size of a house and eats us? God! We just left Mabel and Dipper alone with it!” I grew more frantic, struggling with my sweater and eventually getting stuck. Stan reached out and tugged my sweater prison off with a sigh.

“Will ya stop panicking for a minute Carla? It’s fine. That thing was not aggressive.” Stan said, tossing my sweater to the side and handing me my usual cardigan. “Let’s just go downstairs, and make sure the kids aren’t dino food.”

I smacked the back of Stan’s head as we left the bedroom.

 

“He’s kinda sweet. You want some Mabel juice little guy?”

“No Mabel juice!” I grabbed the pitcher and held it out of Mabel’s reach, “For anyone!”

The chicken-sized dinosaur on the table made a sound similar to a whimper and I frowned.

“Now that’s just eerie.”

“Ok! I think I figured it out!” Dipper announced, coming into the kitchen with a handful of paper.

“Well? Spit it out kid.” Stan shot over his shoulder from the range where he was still cooking that morning’s bacon and eggs.

“I’m pretty sure this little guy is a Compsognathus. He’s from the Jurassic period. See the similarity of the markings?” Dipper laid out a piece of paper, the dinosaur crying and hurrying over to him.

“How big do they grow? And will it eat us?” I asked, walking over.

“Well, that’s the good news. He’ll only grow to the size of a turkey and while they are carnivorous, they prefer lizards and bugs.”

“So he’ll have plenty to eat in the Shack!” Mabel added.

“Speakin’ of eatin’, breakfast time! Stan announced, dishing the bacon and eggs onto four plates. I took another look at the small dinosaur. He stared back, eyes swivelling madly.

“Ok buddy, time to hop down.” I flapped the tea towel at it and it seemed to get the message. With short little hops and accompanying chirps, it dropped down to the floor and ran under the table.

I had to agree with Mabel, it did seem rather sweet.

“Come on kids, make room here.” I gently moved Dipper and his dino research to the other side of the table as Mabel bounded over to the drawers, grabbing the knives and forks. Stan and I placed the plates down on the table and soon everyone was seated and digging in.

Until I felt something warm, and slightly leathery, bump my knee.

I jumped in shock, dropping my fork.

The dinosaur seized it quickly and we all heard the rattle as it placed it further under the table.

“Alright, I’ll get another fork.” I said, standing and trying to remain as calm as I could with a dinosaur running around the kitchen.

As I returned to my seat, it seemed Stan was next for the knee-nudging.

“Argh!” Stan jumped and tried ineffectively to push the dinosaur away from him. “What’s the deal here kid?” he asked Dipper as the dinosaur stretched up and tried to pick the fork out of Stan’s hand.

“I, I, uh...”

“He thinks you’re his mama Grunkle Stan!” Mabel said loudly through her mouthful.

“What?”

“That would might sense,” Dipper waved a piece of bacon at Stan as he spoke. “After all, he did hatch under you Grunkle Stan.”

Stan grunted as the dinosaur tried to reach for his fork again.

“Beat it.” He growled, holding the fork higher. The dinosaur chirped at him, cocked it’s head to the side and crouched down before leaping into the air and once again attempting to snatch the fork.

“Oh great, it can jump.” I muttered. “What are we going to do with,” I paused, frowning, “I suppose we can’t just keep calling it an It. Any ideas for a name? Since it seems like it might be with us for a while.”

“What kinda dino did ya say it was?” Stan asked, stuffing a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

“A Compsognathus.”

“A Comps-compsan, no, Compsnoga, wait that’s not right, comps ... Compy. I’m calling it Compy!” Stan decided as he gave up trying to pronounce it.

The newly christened Compy looked up at Stan and keened approvingly before head butting Stan’s knee again.

“Well, he’s certainly intelligent.” I commented with a small smile.

Compy keened again, this time stretching up and leaning against Stan’s leg as he stared at Stan’s fork, which had paused half way to Stan’s mouth with a piece of bacon balancing on it.

Stan arched a worried eyebrow at the dinosaur at his side.

“What, what’s he doing?”

“He’s probably hungry! We should go catch him a bug feast!” Mabel gasped.

“Ok. Sure thing pumpkin. Knock yourself out.” Stan agreed as he went to continue eating. However Compy had other ideas and once again sprung into the air, only to snatch Stan’s bacon this time.

“Hey!”

I laughed as Compy landed and scurried back under the table with his ill-gotten food.

“He certainly steals like his mama Stan too!” I teased. Stan glowered at me as the twins laughed.

Compy eventually poked his head out from under the table and cocked his head to look at me. I tentatively held a piece of my own bacon out to him and Compy darted forward to snatch it from my hands. Despite knowing what would happen, I still squeaked as his three little claws scraped over my fingers. Compy chattered happily as he chomped down on the bacon.

“So, he’ll get to the same size as a turkey huh?” I asked, still looking at the dinosaur.

“Most likely.” Dipper stole some of Mabel’s eggs when she wasn’t looking.

“Hmm. I think he’s already close to that now... we’re going to have to keep a close eye on our Compy.” I mused.

 

X

 

It was several hours later and I found myself alone in the house with a dinosaur.

Stan had resumed work as Mr Mystery as normal, and I’d sent the twins off to go and catch as many bugs and lizards as they could.

And, since was Gravity Falls, I’d sent Soos with them to make sure they didn’t get caught by a giant sentient bug hiding in the woods somewhere.

Which only left Wendy on standby to help me contain Compy in the house.

A task made more difficult by Compy’s increasing want to follow Stan everywhere.

Every time Stan took a break from tours, he stuck his head through the door and Compy would chirp happily. He’d run over and try to get through the makeshift fence Wendy had built using the table and chairs.

“Stan, seriously, what are we gonna do about him?” I asked, distracting Compy with a ball of tinfoil. We’d discovered pretty fast after the fork incident at breakfast, that Compy seemed to like anything that sparkled or was shiny.

“Dunno. Reckon he’ll stay in here until tours are over?” Stan asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Well, I can probably keep him distracted, but I can’t do that every day. We need a plan.” I sighed as Compy pushed the ball of tinfoil back to me. “Though, I will admit, he’s easy to look after.”

“Ok baby, I’ll think up a genius plan. Reckon Soos could build a dinosaur cage?” Stan asked. I rolled my eyes.

“Sure. But make sure Wendy’s helping him.”

“Gotcha! Have fun you two!” And like that, Mr Mystery was gone again.

I walked over to the old recliner and sat with a yawn.

Compy jumped several times, keening, as he saw Stan walk away, before picking up the tinfoil ball in his mouth and carrying it over to me. He dropped it in my lap and nuzzled my hand for a moment.

“Well, if all dinosaurs were like this, maybe you wouldn’t have gone extinct.” I smiled, stroking Compy’s scaled and slightly bristly head. Compy chattered at me, head moving from side to side before he leapt onto the side of the recliner and nuzzled into my hair.

I froze, not entirely comfortable with having an ACTUAL dinosaur this close to me.

After a minute or so, when I was sure he wasn’t trying to eat me, I twisted to look up at him. Compy chirped once, focusing on me intently.

“You want the ball? Nice shiny ball?” I cooed, lifting the tinfoil off my lap. Compy’s tail waggled slightly and I tossed the ball toward the kitchen. Compy leapt over my head easily and bolted after it, a crash echoing as he slid into something.

The twin’s voices could suddenly be heard and I smiled wanly.

Good, now I’d have help wrangling the newest member of the family until Stan had come up with a more permanent solution.

 

“Oh come on! Where is it?” I muttered, entering the front room. Stan looked up from the TV.

“Whatcha looking for hot stuff?” He asked conversationally. I ignored him and reached down the side of the recliner, huffing in frustration as Stan’s bulk made that task harder.

“Woah! Hey, Carla, not that I mind, but there are kids in the house.” Stan joked as I leaned further over, head resting against his stomach as my fingers dug deeper down the side of the cushions.

“Don’t be crude.” I scolded absently, pulling my hand back and repeating the same actions on the other side of Stan. “I’ve lost my watch. You know, the silver one with the emerald stones and the scroll work around the face? You got it for my birthday and I can’t find it!”

“What ya searching here for? Ya sure ya just haven’t left it upstairs?” Stan asked as I took a step back, biting at my thumbnail in agitation.

“I checked upstairs first. But I was sure I put it on this morning. I’m almost certain I did. I used it to time how long it took Mabel to stick 5 gummy worms up her nose,” I shuddered, “though remind me not to do that again! Anyway, it’s not upstairs, it’s not in the kitchen, I haven’t been in the shop today... the only place it must be is in here. I can’t have lost it!”

“Well, don’t worry. We’ll find it. Can’t have grown legs and wandered off.” Stan joked, standing and squeezing my shoulder lovingly.

“I love that watch. You got our initials engraved on it.” I muttered, pouting slightly.

Before Stan could say anything, Dipper came down the stairs in a hurry.

“Has anyone seen my limited edition Ducktective pen? You know, the one with the silver figure of Ducktective on the end?”

“Grauntie Carla! Grunkle Stan!” Mabel came running in from somewhere as well. “I can’t find my shiny, sparkly gel pens! Or my sequinned pencils! And Waddles won’t come down stairs and he’s not eating and I think he’s dying!”

“EVERYBODY! Just calm down!” Stan yelled over everyone’s voices. “One problem at a time!”

There was a thump and a hiss from the hallway.

As one, we all looked out the door.

The coat rack had fallen over, Compy’s tail visible underneath Stan’s dress jacket that was now lying on the floor.

As we were watching Compy pulled his head free, a gold watch dangling from his mouth and several coins clutched in his hands. When he realised we were there, he chirped in greeting and turned, running away down the hall.

“Hey! That’s my ill-gotten watch you overgrown lizard!” Stan yelled.

“Follow that dinosaur!” Dipper crowed and we all ran down the hall to find Compy darting into an old closet. Dipper reached out and pulled the door open, revealing Compy sitting on top of a small pile of objects.

“Hey! There’s my sequinned pencils!” Mabel pointed. “Next to Dipper’s pen!”

“What?”

“And the forks from breakfast,” I pointed out, “and, hey! My watch!”

Compy hissed as I reached forward, snapping his teeth at me.

I dragged my hand back quickly.

“Guess he really does like shiny things.” Dipper said as we watched Compy lovingly tuck the coins and watch from Stan’s jacket into his pile.

“Hot Tamales! Do ya know what this means?” Stan crowed excitedly.

The twins and I shook our heads dumbly at him.

“He’s a natural thief! I could teach him how to pick pocket and he’ll bleed the visitors dry!”

I groaned.

“That’s a terrible idea Stan. And not just because of a dinosaur, it’s just horribly unethical.” I turned back to look at Compy only to find him missing. “Wha the- Where’d he go?”

Looking around, I saw Compy pulling another pen out of Dipper’s pocket. He froze when we caught him red-clawed.

“Argh!” Dipper leapt away from the small dinosaur and Stan beamed wider.

“Even better, he’s already a pick pocket! This plan is happening!”

“We’re getting sued.” I muttered.

 

X

 

A day or two later, we’d learnt many things.

  1. A dinosaur does not make a good house pet.
  2. Pigs don’t like dinosaurs. After finally convincing Mabel that Waddles wasn’t dying, we discovered he was simply scared of Compy despite being the same size as him. Mabel took this rather well, as Waddles began staying hidden under her blankets meant she could make jokes about him being a pig-in-a-blanket all the time.
  3. Compy was far too much like Stan.
  4. Compy was also far too fast.
  5. We were now using plastic cutlery as Compy had stolen all the silverware.
  6. Compy was learning to talk. Seriously. He’d taken to squawking out a strange little cry that sounded like “No refunds!” any time you tried to get close to his nest.
  7. Dinosaurs, much like dragons, don’t like to share their hoard.



Oh, and Mabel hadn’t lost her sparkly gel pens, she’d simply forgotten that she’d used them to write a letter in the recently uncovered spare room and that she’d left them in there.

In the shop, I watched as Compy did his funny little squawk of “No refunds!” at a startled tourist, who had just discovered he’d been robbed by a dinosaur, before  Compy streaked back into the house with his little arms full of money and credit cards.

The tourist let out a yell and ran from the building, apparently more terrified than angry.

I sighed.

Fourth time today and yet, Stan still insisted it was a good plan.

I stood and clapped my hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Excuse me folks! If I could get your attention, over here, sir? Thank you.” I called out. “We are closing in 10 minutes, so wrap up your gawking, pay the pretty lady and find a road outta Gravity Falls, it’s quitting time!”

I patted Wendy on the shoulder, whispering in her ear, “Drop some of the prices. Poor people have been robbed enough.”

“You got it Mrs Pines.” Wendy winked and I smiled. Bless the girl for just rolling with the craziness around here. Leaving her to ring up the last purchases, I followed the little thief’s trail back into the house, only to find Stan and Compy wrestling over a bundle of cash in the hall.

“Gimme that!” Stan grunted as Compy hissed at him.

“Stupid ungrateful lizard! I hatched you!” Stan panted, cursing as Compy’s tail struck him in the legs. “Ow!”

“Stan, what are you doing?” I asked after a minute or so.

Compy took advantage of the distraction to wrench the bills from Stan’s hands and scurry away to the safety of his ever growing nest.

“Kids! They just steal all ya money and never give it back!” Stan scowled.

“It wasn’t your money to begin with.” I pointed out, trying to hide my smile.

“Not the point!” Stan pouted. “That little thief is sitting on a fortune and he won’t give me any of it!”

“He still has my watch.” I muttered as we walked away from Compy and into the kitchen.

“And my pencils!” Mabel added from the kitchen table where her and Dipper were eating lunch.

“And we’re using plastic knives and forks... Compy may be becoming a bit of a problem Stan.” I admitted slowly.

“Are you kidding?! He’s making us more money than ever!” Stan protested.

“But you aren’t really seeing any of that money Grunkle Stan,” Dipper pointed out, “Compy just hoards it and refuses to let anyone near it.”

“Dipper has a point. We’re not exactly earning money here.” I agreed.

Stan still looked uncertain.

Mabel looked out and over the table.

“Uh oh. He’s on the move again. Everyone hang onto your valuables.”

“I closed the shop so there aren’t any more tourists to rob at least.” I sighed as Compy vanished further into the house.

Dipper grabbed his and Mabel’s plates, dumping them in the sink.

“Well, we’re done. Can we go explore the woods?” He asked, Mabel hopping down and standing beside him.

“Yeah, sure. Just be back for dinner.” Stan dismissed.

“Thanks guys!” The twins cried in unison before bounding out the door.

“I’m gonna go and raid that hoard while the damn lizard is busy.” Stan muttered, heading out of the kitchen.

“Be careful.” I warned. “You never know when he’s gonna come back.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan waved over his shoulder.

I pottered around the kitchen, idly washing and putting the dishes away before turning to the fridge to set out lunch for Stan and I. A loud stomping entered the kitchen.

“What on earth?” I spun and found Stan practically shaking with rage, something clutched tightly in his hands.

“That’s it! The dirty, stealing dinosaur is going!” He thundered. I baulked at his tone before moving to rest a hand against him.

“What? Why the sudden change of heart?”

“He stole the glasses.” Stan said low and dark. Glancing down at his hand in confusion, I caught sight of the old black frames.

Oh.

“Mabel must have left that door open after she finished her letter.” I said quietly.

“Yeah? Well, I can’t get mad at her, but that lizard has to go!” Stan’s voice trembled and I gently laid my hand over his hand, worried about how tightly he was holding the glasses.

“Easy Stan.” I soothed, rubbing his arm. “You’ve got them. They’re safe. But you’re going to break them if you’re not careful.”

Stan looked down, tears streaking his cheeks already, as he released his grip on the old pair of glasses. I winced at the red indented lines on his hand and cautiously took the glasses off him. Stan stiffened as I took them, relaxing as I placed them just on the table.

Rubbing my thumb across his red palm, I hummed quietly, giving Stan the mental space he needed.

“I know it’s stupid to get so worked up over a stupid pair of glasses...” Stan muttered but I shushed him.

“It’s not stupid. Well, it would be to someone who doesn’t know what you’ve gone through.” I said as I focused on the now fading lines, “And Compy doesn’t know any of that. I’m not saying we keep him though, I do want my watch back one of these days,”

Stan grinned sheepishly and pulled my watch out of his pocket.

“I also got the kids pens and pencils.” He admitted as I stared in shock before smiling. Compy really did take after his mama Stan.

“You’re such an old softie.” I lifted his palm up and planted a kiss straight to the centre.

“Guess bringing home a dinosaur egg wasn’t a good idea.” Stan said.

“Not one of your brightest ideas, no.” I cocked my head at him, “But, I don’t like saying I told you so...”

Stan snorted.

“Like hell you don’t. It’s your favourite phrase.”

I laughed and let go of his hand.

“Would you love me any other way?”

“Never.” Stan smiled reaching for the glasses. “Thanks baby. Guess I better go and put these somewhere safe.”

“How about the actual safe? In the office.” I suggested. “You can take my watch too.”

“Sure thing.” Stan turned to leave and I placed a hand on his arm.

“We’re going to need to come up with a solution to our Compy problem.”

“I know.”

 

X

 

Mabel let out a battle screech and slid down the banister, followed closely by Compy.

Mabel was dragging a new bedazzled, tinfoil ball behind her, the ball bouncing wildly at the end of the long string it was attached to. Compy was going ballistic for it.

“Exhibition room!” I yelled as she sprinted past, dodging Compy’s whip-like tail as he ran past me, before heading after them with a broom.

Mabel hardly slowed as she ran full pace into the exhibition room, the doors slamming shut behind me as Dipper and Soos wedged the old plank through the handles.

“Atta boy,” Stan coaxed from the middle of the room, “Come on. Bring Mama Stan the ball.”

Compy looked up with a muffled chirp, already nibbling at the tinfoil in his little claws.

“Look what I’ve got?” Stan shook his arm, the gold watch sliding off his wrist, “Shiny gold watch. You want it?”

Compy perked up at that, dropping the ball and edging closer to Stan, his eyes never quite leaving the watch.

Stan slowly and clearly placed the watch inside the trap cage we’d borrowed from Farmer Sprott that morning. Compy took another few steps, stopping just short of the cage before extending his neck as far as he could, sniffing slightly.

With a sudden click of his teeth, Compy turned away and refocused on the ball of bedazzled tinfoil instead.

“What? What’s wrong with my watch?” Stan demanded huffily.

“I wonder if he can tell it’s just gold plating...” Dipper wondered out loud.

“You mean, like he knows Stan’s a cheap old man?” Wendy supplied with a cocky grin as Stan glowered at her.

“Haha kid. I’d dock ya wages but-”

“You hardly pay me anyway.” Wendy finished. Stan chuckled, apparently pleased Wendy could match him line for line.

“Does that mean we should add something else?” Soos asked, voice somewhat muffled by the amount of pillows someone had strapped to his entire body.

“Soos, why are you covered like that?” I asked, momentarily distracted.

“Stan said that as a plan B, we could let Compy, like use me as a chew toy as you guys get a leash around him or something.” Soos said, clearly happy at his part. I glared at Stan, who was looking at Compy again.

“Anyone got cash?” He asked. I walked over and reached into his pants pocket to pull out a twenty dollar bill and several credit cards.

“Hey! Carla!” Stan protested. “It took me 10 minutes to get that tourist to look away long enough!”

“Try flirting less than.” I countered, placing the loot in the cage next to the watch before whistling.

“Compy! Come here boy!”

Apparently Compy was not going to be fooled twice, so I straightened and nodded at Dipper. He nodded back and pulled a piece of crystal out of his pocket.

Moving to stand in Compy’s line of sight, Dipper gently twisted the crystal so it caught the light several times. Compy blinked, looking up and chittering in his strange way.

“Good boy,” Dipper soothed, edging toward the cage, “you want it?”

Compy followed Dipper’s movements exactly until he was standing in line with the cage. He sniffed the air and seemed to notice the extra loot in the cage. His eyes swivelled madly as he tried to look at both the cash and the crystal.

“Now Dipper!” Mabel cried out, her and Wendy still holding the rope that held the cage door up.

Dipper tossed the crystal into the cage and threw himself out of the way as Compy sprinted after the crystal... straight into the cage.

“NOW!” Stan yelled and the girls let go of the rope.

With a loud clang, the cage door slammed shut and Dipper fished the padlock out of his pocket and handed it over to Stan who was ready to fasten it shut and keep Compy contained.

We all gathered round the cage as Compy happily nibbled on the crystal, crouching over Stan’s watch.

“Well, since he didn’t want it,” Stan took the broom from my hand and used it to snag his watch back. “I’ll just have it back.”

Compy realised we were all staring at him and looked up, turning in the small space to look back at us while making an inquisitive keening.

“Man, I know he was a pest...” Wendy rubbed her arm, “but he was cute. And it was funny watching him pick pockets in the shop.”

“And his weird little squawk was pretty cool.” Dipper added, crouching down and patting Compy through the bars.

“Are we sure we can’t keep him?” Mabel asked, chewing her lip.

“Farmer Sprott is used to dealing with weird livestock. Compy will be ok with him. And we can still go and see him.” I reassured. “Maybe after he’s grown a bit more, we can all take him back to the mines and let him go down there.”

“Hey! That’s not a bad idea Carla,” Stan gave me an appraising smile, “how about it kids? Next summer, we’ll get him back from Sprott and take Compy back to the mines?”

Mabel and Dipper looked at each other, thinking, before giving me and Stan matching grins.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Oooh! I can make an animal rescue scrapbook!”

“So, who’s taking this little monster over to the farm?” I asked, feeling Compy nip my fingers through the bars.

“I am... Once someone helps me. Dudes?” Soos’ muffled voice came from the floor where he’d fallen and was now struggling to get back up due to his pillow armour.

Stan sighed.

“Kids?” He suggested, Mabel and Dipper going to help Soos out while Wendy doubled over laughing.

 

Compy seemed to finally understand something was wrong just after we loaded him onto the back of Soos’ truck. He made a high pitched wailing and I bit my lip.

“I can’t stand to see him like that,” I said to Stan who was helping to secure the cage, “poor little thing.”

“Carla, do you want to keep your watch in the safe?” Stan asked, leaning on the side of the truck.

“Well, no...” I admitted reluctantly, “If it wasn’t for his stealing problem, I wouldn’t mind having him around.”

“It’s for the best.” Stan reassured as Compy keened loudly.

“Wait! Wait! I got this!” Mabel came running out of the house, swamped under one of the spare blankets. “Remember how he calmed down when we first caught him? I thought he might need this again!”

“Brilliant idea pumpkin.” Stan grinned and took the bundle from her as Mabel beamed.

Compy did settle down as Stan threw the blanket over him and made sure it would stay there during the drive.

“Hey little fella,” I cooed against the cage, “sorry you’ve gotta go, but we’ll come see you. I promise.” Compy pushed his head against mine through the bars and blankets and let out a soft coo.

A lump appeared in my throat I hadn’t been expecting and I swallowed against it.

“Bye Compy.”

“No refunds!”

I let out a choked laugh at his strange little squawk. I was actually going to miss hearing it.

“Carla? Can we go with him? Make sure he’s ok there?” Dipper asked, Mabel practically pouting beside her brother. I could see my own emotions reflected in their faces and I nodded.

“Of course. Go.” I flapped a hand in the direction of the doors. “Hurry up, Soos will leave without you.”

‘I’m coming too guys.” Wendy sauntered over, looking unusually embarrassed, “It’s been pretty cool knowing a real life dinosaur. Wanna say goodbye properly you know.”

I nodded with a smile and took a step back as the kids hopped into the truck, Soos starting the engine.

“See ya you little thief. Gonna miss ya.” Stan said gruffly as he climbed down from the back of the truck. “Good luck in ya new home.”

And with that, Stan banged his hand on the side of the truck twice and Soos set off down the driveway.

I sniffed, starting to cry. Stan chuckled and pulled me into a hug.

“Ya such a mess.” He teased as he stroked my back.

“He was cute! And I think he really did love us.” I wiped my face against Stan’s chest and leaned back with a watery smile. “In fact, I know he did.”

“How?” Stan asked, regarding me with a warm smile.

“He stole your watch back.”

Stan gaped at me before frantically checking both wrists and every pocket.

“Son of a - Damn overgrown lizard!” Stan growled before taking off at a run after Soos’ truck that was just  disappearing behind the trees.

I started laughing as I pulled Stan’s watch out of my own pocket. Turns out Compy didn’t just take after Stan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember reading the section about Compy in the Journal and just laughing. OF COURSE Stan would do something like that! And OF COURSE Carla is just as bad as Stan!


	18. July 2012 - Visiting an Unexpected Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens if Carla joins the twins and Soos on their adventure into Stan's mind? How does she react to meeting Bill Cipher?
> 
> *also, quick warning for suicidal thoughts and intentions in one scene*

July 2012

 

“Dipper! We gotta help Stan! Grauntie Carla!”

I jumped as Mabel came sprinting into the house, Soos thumping behind her.

“What on earth?” I muttered under my breath, hurrying down the stairs to find the twins and Soos gathered in the front room around a sleeping Stan.

“- said he’s gonna break into Stan’s mind and steal the combination to his safe! Also, we stopped for snacks on the way.” Soos shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.

“Triangle guy?” Dipper pulled a book out from his jacket, “I feel like I’ve seen something like this before in the journal...”

My heart leapt into my mouth.

Dipper was holding Ford’s journal! How?

Had they got into the basement? Why had he kept this a secret from us? Who else knew about this?

And what was that about someone breaking into Stan’s mind?

Itching to snatch the book out of Dipper’s hands, I forced myself to be patient as he read aloud from the journal.

“Beware Bill, the most powerful and dangerous creature I’ve ever encountered. Whatever you do, never let him enter your mind.”

Wait, I’d read Ford’s journal cover to cover and had never seen that entry... could it be possible? Dipper had found the second journal?

Who was Bill?

Mabel glanced at Stan and gasped, a terrified expression on her face.

“Grunkle Stan!”

That’s when we all saw the shadow.

A distinct shadow of a triangle with one large eye slid down the wall behind Stan before disappearing. As we watched, Stan’s eyes snapped open with a scary blue glow emanating from them.

Rushing to Stan’s side, I grabbed his arm as he began to thrash and utter nonsense.

“Stan? Stan!” I shook his arm and shoulder desperately, hoping to snap him out of this, hoping he’d wake up. When that (predictably) didn’t work, I knew that the journal Dipper held might be our only hope.

“What does the book say?” I demanded, turning back to the twins.

Mabel snatched the book from her brother and continued reading the passage.

“It is possible to follow the demon into a person’s mind and prevent his chaos. One must simply recite this incantation.”

Dipper threw his hands up in the air as he rolled his eyes.

“Urgh, this is just great! I spend all day cleaning sinks and fighting bats for Stan and now I have to save him from some crazy dream demon?!”

I bristled at his tone and attitude.

“Yes Dipper, you do. NOW.” I said firmly, mouth thinning as I stared stonily at him.

“If we don’t do anything, Gideon might steal the Shack! Or worse!” Mabel added.

Right on cue, Stan let out a hoarse scream from the chair. My stomach dropped and I doubled my grip on his arm.

“Dipper. Do it, now!” I ordered, fear causing my breath to catch in my throat.

Dipper signed resignedly.

“Fine. Get ready. We’re about to journey into the most horrifying, disturbing place in the whole world. Stan’s mind.”

Lightning flashed outside as I bit back the scolding I very much wanted to give Dipper in that moment. Now was not the time.

I could hear Soos debating whether to bring snacks or not before the three of them hurried away to collect what we needed.

Finding myself alone with what was now a very obviously possessed Stan, I sighed and reached out to stroke his cheek soothingly.

“What have you gotten us into now Stanley?” I asked quietly before leaning in to kiss his forehead, even as Stan continued to twitch. “Hang in there sweetheart. We’re coming.”

 

A short while later, the twins, Soos and I were standing within a circle of lit candles and all the lights switched off as the rain continued to fall outside.

Dipper was holding the journal open next to Stan’s chair.

“Okay guys. In order to save Stan, we’re gonna have to follow that... dream demon into his mind.”

“I wonder what Stan is thinking about right now?” Soos asked before reaching out to take hold of Stan’s jaw. “I love Soos like a son!” he said in a high-pitched voice, using Stan like a ventriloquist’s dummy.

“Soos! This is serious!” Dipper snapped.

“Sorry.” Soos apologised, still moving Stan’s jaw.

Mabel laughed nervously and high-fived Soos.

“Yeah!” They exclaimed, both of them stopping when they caught sight of the stern expression on my face.

Dipper coughed to get our attention again.

Let’s do this.” He said bravely before gently placing his hand on Stan’s head. Mabel and Soos copied him.

Taking a deep breath, I rested my fingertips on Stan’s forehead as Dipper began to chant.

“Videntus omnium. Magister mentium. Magnesium ad hominen. Magnum opus. Habeas corpus! Inceptus Nolanus overatus! Magister mentium! Magister Mentium! MAGISTER MENTIUM!”

A strange electrical buzz spread up my arm as a bright blue light bloomed in my vision. I briefly caught a glimpse of Dipper’s eyes glowing blue like Stan’s before my vision was wiped out completely, blackness quickly overtaking the bright blue.

 

X

 

I woke with a jolt, breathing hard.

Around me, the twins and Soos also woke up with a start. As we all climbed to our feet, Mabel and Soos gaped at the world around us.

“What the-?” Soos twisted to see everything.

“Whoa, this is Stan’s mind?” Mabel asked, disbelievingly.

It was extremely bizarre.

In front of us was a much more run-down version of the Mystery Shack, broken and falling apart while wooden planks floated in the air. There was no colour either... only greyness.

We walked closer, pausing by the oversized head of the totem pole. Glancing between the trees, I caught sight of a broken swing set and my breathing hitched as I remembered why it had been so important to Stan.

“I figured there’d be more hot old ladies,” Soos glanced at me, “sorry Mrs Pines.”

I shrugged, the state of Stan’s mind shocking even me into silence.

Dipper was still looking around nervously when Mabel took another step forward.

“Remember everyone, we’ve got look out for the triangle guy.” She announced.

“Yeah! Look out for the triangle guy!”

We all took a step back in shock as a glowing yellow triangle, complete with top hat and cane, appeared in front of the shack. I presumed this was Bill.

“It’s him! It’s the guy!” Soos yelled.

“You leave our uncle’s brain alone, you isosceles monster!” Mabel yelled before launching herself at Bill.

We watched in shock as Bill simply absorbed Mabel into himself before pulling out a pocket watch and simply waiting. A second later, Mabel shot back out of Bill, stumbling as she rolled forwards on the ground.

“Gotcha! Wait, what?” She looked up and back at Bill, confused.

Bill slowly lowered himself to the shack’s porch, eyeing us all.

“Ah! Stan’s family. We meet at last! Tiny, Question Mark, Shooting Star, Pine Tree, I had a hunch I might bump into you!” Bill drew his hand back and fired a red laser beam at Dipper, causing a giant hole to appear in Dipper’s midsection.

Dipper screamed, clutching his hat as he took rapid, panicked breaths. Mabel leaned over and stuck her hand through the newly created hole.

“Boop!”

“Mabel!” Dipper slapped his sister’s hand away before rounding on Bill again. “What do you want with our uncle’s mind anyway?”

Bill leaned on his cane genially, and I wondered why Ford considered him to be dangerous when he just looked so comical.

“Oh, just the code to the old man’s safe! Inside the shack is a maze of a thousand doors representing your uncle’s memories. Behind one of them is a memory of him inputting the code! I just need to find it and Gideon will pay me handsomely!”

Wait, Gideon Gleeful summoned this guy? How did he even know how to?

Mabel pointed in bravely in defiance.

“Not if we stop you!” She yelled, her determination bolstering my own.

Bill lifted back into the air.

“Hah, fat chance! I’m the master of the mind!.” He sneered, blue flames encircling him, “I even know what you’re thinking right now!”

“That’s impossible, no one can guess what I’m thinking!” Mabel dared.

Bill rolled his eye and in a flash, two brightly coloured young men appeared on either side of Mabel.

Were those the characters from that strange film Mabel loved so much?

“Whoa, where are we bro?”

“We must be in heaven, ‘cause I just saw an angel!”

Mabel squealed and clung to the leg of one of the young men.

“I’m never letting go of your leg!”

“You’re out of your league kids!” Bill taunted. “Turn around now before you see something you might regret. Later suckers!” Bill zoomed backwards, crashing through the wall of the shack and disappearing.

Dipper sucked in a breath and tried to look tough, despite the hole in his chest.

“We’re goin’ in! Mabel, can we leave those guys out here? Lookin at them... hurts my eyes...”

I had to agree with Dipper. In this grey landscape, the two young men stood out far to brightly to be comfortable.

Mabel practically pouted.

“No! They can help us!” She insisted.

“Totally! Arm throne!” Both men yelled and scooped Mabel up as she giggled. They started heading toward the shack.

Soos nudged Dipper and hunched over.

“Dude! Arm throne!”

Dipper yelled and ran after Mabel and her boys, Soos following him with arms held out.

I followed slowly, taking another look around as I entered the darkened doorway and almost bumped into Soos.

We were all standing on a wooden platform floating far above any form of ground, multiple sets of dodgy looking stairs leading to many other platforms and doorways. I had a sensation of falling as I looked around. It seemed like an impossible task to get one tiny memory out of all this mess.

“Radical!”

“I also think it’s radical!” The two (I could only presume, imaginary) characters high-fived one another.

A flock of bat-like creature fly past us screeching “No refunds!”.

I was disturbed to see they weren’t actually bats, just Stan’s head with wings.

“Woah, look! All of Stan’s memories!” Soos breathed. I hated to think what we might see in here. Especially regarding Stan’s younger years...

“Great. Sure there’s plenty of memories of Stan bossing me around, can’t wait to see more of that.” Dipper sulked. I frowned, still annoyed by Dipper’s attitude.

“Come on Dipper, we’ve gotta find the code before Bill does!” Mabel cried, hurrying away down the nearest set of stairs as her own two personal cheerleaders complimented her.

“Let’s get searching!” Soos yelled, picking up Dipper and grabbing my arm as he set off after Mabel.

 

X

 

After what felt like several hundred hallways later, we paused to catch our breath. Dipper opened another random door.

It opened into a prison cell where Stan was sitting between two men on a narrow bench. My stomach dropped when I saw who they were. I’d seen them. Not until many years later, but they were instantly recognisable. I rested a hand over the top of my right thigh absently as the memory played out.

_Stan slipped his arms around the two men._

_“Jorge, Rico, you’re the two best Columbian prison friends a fellah could have.”_

_Jorge and Rico shared a glance._

_“Espero que muera.”_

_“Si.”_

_Stan just grinned dumbly, oblivious to how dangerous those men would become for him._

Dipper closed the door.

“Nope.” He said as Soos pulled another door open.

_Stan was knocking on a house door, straw boater perched on his head and holding a vacuum cleaner. When the door opened, Stan launched into a sales patter as only Stan could._

_“Sir, would you like to buy a Stan-Vac? Stan-Vac; It sucks more than anything!”_

_The door was slammed in his face. Stan frowned._

_“Gotta work on that.” He muttered._

Soos slammed the door shut.

“Nope. Not this one either.”

Mabel reached for another door, gasping as she pulled it open.

“Whoa, it’s Stan on a date!”

“With you Grauntie Carla!” Dipper pointed out over his sister’s shoulder. I joined them, wondering which one it would be.

I sighed when I saw it. It was one of the bad ones.

_“Get ya hands offa me!” Stan struggled in the grip of the bouncer in front of the fanciest restaurant in Gravity Fall, the Club. I was standing to one side, shaking my head._

_“We don’t take kindly to liars and no good, moneyless charlatans.” The bouncer snorted, shoving Stan further away before turning and walking back inside._

_Stan straightened his jacket, mumbling to himself._

_“We still have time to get dinner at the diner before it closes.” I suggested._

_“Fine. Bet the food here sucks anyway.” Stan said, scowling as we walked back to the car._

_“It probably does.” I agreed as we slid into the car... which wouldn’t start. Stan stared at the steering wheel for a moment with a carefully blank face. Even as the rain started to fall, Stan’s face didn’t twitch._

_“Would ya excuse me a moment Carla?” Stan eventually said, getting out of the car before I could reply._

_I watched as Stan walked a little distance away from the car and turn towards the trees as the rain soaked his coat. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to scream._

_“You-“_

Remembering just in time, I slammed the door of the memory shut just before the twins could be exposed to that kind of language.

“Yeesh!” Mabel said, her expression telling me she had guessed where that was going.

“Yeah. Not one of the better dates me and your grunkle have had.” I guided her away from the door. “We should keep looking.”

We kept walking down the hall way, opening and closing random doors.

“Look, guys!” Dipper had paused by a much larger door with the words ‘Dipper Memories’ wrote on it. “Memories about me!”

He moved to open the door when all of a sudden, Soos pushed it shut and held it shut.

“That doesn’t seem like good idea dude.” He warned. Dipper looked put out.

“I just wanna know what the old guy really thinks of me.”

Mabel patted her brother on the shoulder as she walked past.

“We already know how Stan feels about us! He loves us! We’re great.” She said, followed by the two guys Bill had conjured.

“Yeah. Let’s just keep moving.” Soos glanced at me as he rested a hand on Dipper’s shoulder before moving along. I was surprised and touched by Soos’ perceptiveness.

Dipper looked wistfully at the closed door.

“Dipper, Stan loves you. I know he doesn’t always show it,” I struggled to find a way to make Dipper understand, “and I know he always gets you to do the difficult chores... but he only does it so,” I sighed and squeezed his shoulder. “He loves you Dipper. No matter what you think, he truly does. Come on, let’s catch up to the others. I’d hate to get lost in here.”

“Yeah, ok Grauntie Carla.” Dipper agreed quietly, looking over his shoulder as we walked away.

 

X

 

A little while later, I was walking behind Soos and Mabel when I realised I hadn’t heard Dipper say anything or open a door for a while.

“Dipper?” I turned to see if he was behind me, only for my heart to stop when I realised he wasn’t. Where was he?

How had we got separated? He’d been right behind me!

I turned to alert Mabel and Soos to the fact Dipper was missing when I suddenly realised I’d stopped being able to hear them too.

Oh crap.

Somehow, I had become separated from the kids and those two figments of Mabel's imagination.

“I guess I have to find my own way to that memory then.” I muttered to myself starting to walk down the corridor.

 

Growing more and more frustrated at each wrong memory I opened, I hadn't noticed that I'd stumbled into a dark, dangerous looking corridor. 

"What the...?" I murmured, stopping and taking track of where I was.

A lot of the doors in this corridor were heavy, steel looking doors. Some even had multiple padlocks on them. Apprehension washed over me at the sight of all the locked away memories, thinking of all the different reasons why you'd want to lock a memory away.

But as I turned to go back the way I came, I saw nothing but a dead end. There was nothing but a wooden wall behind me now.

Feeling the fear crawl up my throat and threaten to overwhelm me, I sucked in a deep breath and refocused.

I was in Stan's mind. When he wakes up, I will most likely get thrown out of here and be back in my own head. The twins too. And they had each other, and Soos. They would be fine. And I could navigate my way out of Stan's mind. Of course I could. I'd known the man since we were kids. What's the worst that could be down here?

Not giving myself any time to dwell on that thought, I started down the dark corridor of steel doors. 

It seemed to take an age just to get to the end of the corridor, only to find a fork in the road.

As I stood there, trying to decide which way would be best despite the lack of clues, knowledge and just the general weirdness of this entire situation, I heard a loud creak behind me.

One of the doors had opened, its padlock lying rusted and broken on the floor. Curiosity getting the better of me, I abandoned my decision making to peer in at the memory.

It was night time, clear sky and freezing temperatures. Even on the other side of the strange, wavy barrier covering the door, I could feel the cold.

Nothing seemed to be happening, I was merely gazing out at the view over a steep ravine. Which oddly enough, looked familiar...

_A car's motor suddenly pierced the quiet night. Headlights blinded me momentarily before they were shut off.  Blinking rapidly, I tried to adjust once again to the darkness as someone got out of the vehicle._

_"Stupid fuckin' hippy. I know he's up to something. I just need ta get rid of him and she'll go back to normal and I won't have to leave." The person muttered, still half hidden in the, what I was now realising was a van. I frowned, pressing closer to the memory._

_Whoever it was straightened and leaned against the side of the van, lighting up a cigarette._

_"Stupid worthless bum." They muttered darkly in between breaths, smoke and foggy breath becoming impossible to identify separately._

_"Screw up. Knucklehead. Dumb muscle. Ya knew she was too good for ya. Everybody knew she was too good for ya." The person continued_.

A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as I realised this was probably Stan.

_"Big, dumb idiot... That's all ya are. Only good for fucking things up. So that's what I might as well do. Fuck that damn hippy's van up and maybe he'll get the fuck outta town."_

_Oh, this was 1972 and Stan had stolen Thistle's van in order to wreck it._

_Stan ground the butt of his cigarette out under his toe, swore about the cold and reached into the van again, the grind of the gearbox suddenly audible._

_"Let's see him deal with a write off." Stan muttered as he slammed the door and got behind the van, beginning to push with a low grunt._

I watched silently, remembering how angry Thistle had been, how he had exploded at me when he found out it was Stan...had I told Thistle? I couldn’t remember... I certainly remembered Stan coming to see me afterwards though. He'd brought me daisies.

Stan had pushed the van passed the doorway into the memory and I craned to see where he was.

_It seemed Stan was engrossed in his task at hand to notice the cold. I watched him shivering under the clear sky, as he neared the edge of the ravine._

I remembered Stan being scratched and bruised that night. How did that happen?

_As if on cue, Stan gave a shout from behind the van._

_His jacket had become snagged on the door but the van was already beginning to roll under its own weight. Stan swore and tugged his jacket, feet slipping as he tried to gain any purchase on the ground._

_The van was moving faster now, the occasional bump making it rock and threaten to trip Stan. Each jerk made Stan swear harder as he fought just to stay on his feet. Suddenly, the van crashed over the lip of the ravine, Stan's echoing shout following it._

I froze throat constricting painfully.

That's not what happened! He said he'd been in the van! He couldn't have just plummeted into the ravine!

_A grunt and rustle made me start._

_Appearing over to the lip of the ravine, was a grasping hand._

_Stan heaved himself up, a cocky grin of relief on his face, right before a loud crack and he vanished again with a startled yelp._

“Stan!” I cried.

_“Urgh, stupid root, shoulda- Whoa! Heh, come on, hold a little longer... and got it!” Stan reappeared, a fresh graze on his cheek, as he finally hauled himself over the lip of the ravine. Shuffling back further, Stan rolled onto his back with a groan._

_“That should show him,” he muttered to the shining stars, wheezing slightly, “ya don’t mess with Stan Pines’ girlfriend!”_

_Stan paused._

_“Shoulda thought this through, Now I gotta walk back to town...” He sighed, “I’m not smart, am I? Ah well. Come on Pines, up ya get.”_

_Stan grunted and got to his feet, grimacing as he looked down at the wrecked van._

_“Shit, I wonder if maybe this was too far... Carla might get mad, especially since she’s so caught up with that hippy...” Stan snapped his fingers with a sudden smile. “I know! I’ll get her flowers! Daisies, her favourite. She can’t get mad at me then. Yeah, that’ll work.”_

_Turning his back to the ravine, Stan slowly ambled away, clearly injured but determined to win me back._

I bit my lip as I watched him leave. I knew what happened next... and it wasn’t pretty.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, closing the door with more than a little guilt.

As if in response, the door immediately behind me swung open with an echoing thump.

_“-responsible for Thistle’s van being wrecked?”_

I wheeled round in shock.

That was my voice!

Seeing a younger version of myself, hands on her hips and anger sneer on her face, my heart skipped a beat.

I didn’t want to see this! Anything but this!

Unable to look away, I watched as my younger self scoffed at a teary eyed, bruised Stan.

_“You’re pathetic Stan. All you do is try to scam people, finding new idiotic ways to make a quick buck. I should’ve dated Ford. At least he was going places.”_

_“You, you don’t mean that Carla...” Stan blinked away tears, “It’s Thistle’s fault. He made you say this!” He moved toward my younger self and she pushed him away._

_“Goddammit Pines! I’m not hypnotised! Just accept that I don’t want you anymore.” She said loudly. “Just leave me alone! I don’t want you!”_

_Stan back away, mouth open, crying openly._

_“Carla, please don’t do this.” He pleaded weakly.”Just listen to me, I’m not lying. It’s Thistle...”_

_She turned her back on him with an angry sigh._

_“Just get out of here Stan. Leave me alone.”_

_“Carla, baby, please. I love you.” Stan said as he touched her shoulder gently. My younger self spun round and shoved him hard, causing him to stumble back and fall to the ground._

_“Leave me alone. I don’t love you and I don’t care if I never see you again!” She yelled, grabbing the daisies and flinging them at him again._

“You idiot!” I seethed, staring at the unbridled anger on my own face. “He never lied to you! He could see what was happening! Just listen!”

I watched sadly as Stan sagged in defeat as the door slammed in front of him.

_Stan scooped up the dejected looking daisies and tried uselessly to uncrumple some of the petals._

_“Guess I’m on my own again...” Stan rubbed his eyes furiously with a frustrated huff. “Nobody wants the dumb screw up around, I got the message loud and clear.”_

I could feel tears pricking my eyes and I wrenched the door shut before I could see anymore.

Alone in the hallway of Stan’s memories, I took a shaky breath and slowly slid down the front of the door. I sat there, eyes closed and holding back tears for a few minutes.

“Carla?”

A deep voice snapped me out of my melancholy. Opening my eyes, I bit back a small shriek.

It was Ford!

But not the Ford I remembered. He looked slightly older than I could remember. Maybe in his late 20’s? It was hard to tell due to his haggard and crazy appearance. Is that what he looked like the last time Stan saw him?

“Stanford?” I breathed. “What- How? How are you here?”

“It seems Stanley has banished me down here.” Ford held out his hand and I almost cried as the familiar feel of six fingers against mine own came flooding back.

“Do you know how to get out of here then” I asked as Ford helped me to my feet. Ford was staring at me with a curious look, almost like a hunter would look at prey. He startled when I waved a hand in front of him.

“Wha-Hmm? Oh, yes. Follow me.” Ford smiled, albeit a smile with a little edge to it, and started down the corridor. I hesitated. Ford seemed distracted and slightly unhinged, but maybe this was who he was during that time in his life...I’d never had to worry about being in danger with him before... Plus, what choice did I have?

Taking another glance around the other doors, I sighed.

“This should be fun.” I muttered, hurrying after the quickly retreating form of Ford further down the corridor.

 

Ford glanced at a few doors to our left.

“It’s usually here... but it seems Stan has been rearranging. We may have to just try one of these.”

I stared at the doors. Each one was equally unappealing.

“Which do you recommend?” I joked. “The stained, broken one? The oak door with heavy bolts and bars, or maybe the heavily locked one that’s handleless?”

Ford chuckled and stepped forward to rest a hand on the doorknob of the first door.

“Stained and broken it is.” I twisted my face in disgust but stepped forward as Ford opened the door.

Once again, it was dark inside.

There were moving shadows further in, grunting and small whimpers coming from them. My heart leapt into my throat. Something was kicking in my mind, hadn’t Stan told me about something like this...?

“Doesn’t seem promising.” Ford intoned besides me. I frowned.

“How can you tell? We can’t see anything yet.” I looked back at the memory as the shadows shifted, one body separating from the other with a satisfied sigh.

All of a sudden, we could make out the details of the memory before us.

My stomach dropped.

“Pathetic.” Ford sneered, turning away in disgust.

_Stan was lying naked on the bed in a dingy motel room, biting down on the covers and holding back tears as some faceless man was redressing coolly with his back to Stan._

_“Thanks baby. Maybe I’ll come back and use that mouth of yours next time.” The man leered, dumping a wad of cash on the bed and slapping Stan’s bare ass._

_Stan scrunched his eyes shut, not answering._

_“You’d make more money if you smiled. Miserable sluts bring everyone down.” The man sneered as he walked toward me._

Just before he reached me, he vanished into thin air, leaving me staring at Stan. My heart broke at the sight.

_Stan waited a few moments before slowly sitting up, wincing slightly and grabbing the money._

_Stan jumped as a car nearby backfired loudly, the money scattering over the floor. He tensed, frozen and waiting, until he finally breathed back out and grabbed the money again._

_“Figures. Guy like him thinks he can get away with short changing a whore.” Stan sighed and tossed the cash down onto the bed before standing and crossing slowly to the mirror._

_“At least this one didn’t hit me I suppose,” Stan winced as he gently prodded the blossoming bruise over his left cheek. “ah. Damn. That hurt.”_

“How can you stand to look at him Carla?” Ford asked, voice still laced with disgust, “Knowing what he’s just done and what he’s going to keep doing, just to-”

“Buy food, gas and stay warm?” I interrupted, “Gee Ford, I don’t know, maybe not judge him.”

Ford made a dismissive noise.

_Stan was still standing in front of the mirror, staring blankly at himself._

_“Whaddya doing Stanley?” He asked himself softly, “Why ya putting ya self through this shit?”_

_He glanced down at himself before facing his reflection once more._

_“Because ya ain’t got any other talents, ‘cause ya got nothing else, ‘cause ya goddamn screw up who ruins everything and this is all ya fucking deserve!”_

I watched in horror as Stun swung his fist at the mirror, hearing the crack and shatter of the glass.

_Stan swore and clenched his now bloodied fist, leaping back to avoid the glass on the floor._

_“Fucking, shit, ah!” Stan grabbed a blanket off the bed and pressed it to his fist, hissing as he did so._

“The glass, you need to take the glass out Stan.” I whispered uselessly, Ford snorting derisively beside me.

_Stan slid to the floor, cradling his fist against his chest and staring around the room with a desolate look on his face._

_“God, I miss Ford...” Stan whispered to no one in particular, “that’s where it all went wrong. If I hadn’t screwed up his project, why do I fuck everything up?!”_

“Oh Stan...” I breathed sadly, watching as Stan straightened, an idea in his mind.

_Crawling over the dirtied carpet, Stan gingerly grabbed the largest chunk of cracked glass he could find. Sitting back with his prize in hand, Stan took a deep breath and turned the glass in his hand to catch a glimpse of his reflection._

_“Even you can’t fuck this up,” He told his reflection, “just do it. Ya thought about it before.”_

My heart was thudding painfully. I’d seen the scars this moment left. Stan had never told me this part. He’d claimed he got into a knife fight.

_Stan laid the glass against the exposed underside of his wrist and pressed just enough for him to hiss in a breath as a bead of blood appeared on the skin._

_“Right. Here’s to no more screwing up.” Stan whispered._

The door suddenly slammed shut.

Ford had an unreadable expression on his face.

“Well, that was more of Stanley than I needed to see,” he said sourly, “stooping so low as to sell himself like that.”

“It’s not like he had a choice Ford,” I said quietly, “He was alone and desperate. Nowhere to go, no one to help him.” Stan had sounded so lost in that memory, like he didn’t care what was done to him anymore. I’d never seen him so downtrodden. “What would you have done in his position Ford?”

Ford said nothing. There wasn’t a need for him to I supposed. We all knew that Ford would have never ended up on his own, Stanley would have stayed by his side come Hell or high water.

Something was nagging me about Ford. If he’d been banished here, which memory had he come from? Where had he come from?

Is this how Stan thought of Ford now? Someone who always looked down on him?

“Let’s just try another door Carla.” Ford suggested.

He was much more peevish too. I wasn’t sure I liked this Ford.

“Which do you suggest? The impassable, locked one or the other locked... impassable... door...” I trailed off, now noticing that the third door was suddenly unbarred and invitingly ajar.

Had Ford done that?

“Guess we try this one.” Ford smiled, a biting edge to his grin. I suppressed a shiver as I walked around him to push the door open fully.

I groaned, knowing exactly what we were looking at.

“Oh great. I think we found your memory Ford.”

“So we have Tiny, so we have.” Ford leaned against the open door frame and I frowned. Ford really was acting strange.

Shaking my head slightly, I turned back to the memory. Suspicious thoughts weren’t going to help me right now.

Stan and Ford were standing in the open door of the shack, snow blowing around them.

“How can you be out here, and in there?” I asked.

“I suppose I’m more of a phantom and less of a memory,” Ford detailed as the memory Ford dragged Stanley inside.

The memory warped and shifted, now showing Stan having his eyes examined by Ford.

“Ah! Hey! What is this?”

“Sorry, I just had to make sure you weren’t... uh, it’s nothing. Come in, come in.”

There was a sudden flicker in the memory, almost like static. I turned to Ford, mouth already open to ask if he’d seen it too, when I realised he was laughing quietly.

“What’s your problem?” I asked, frowning. What could possibly be funny right now?

“I’ll tell you in a minute.” Ford chuckled, waving a hand absently.

I turned back to the memory, only to see a cross bow now level with Stanley’s throat.

“Woah! Sixer! What the hell are ya-”

“SHUT UP! I know it’s you Cipher! Get out of him!” the memory Ford looked ready to pull the trigger. Stan tried to calm him down.

“Sixer, Stanford? It’s just me, Stanley, ya brother. Come on man, just put the cross bow down.”

“SO YOU CAN STEAL MY EYES?” Ford yelled.

I was aware of a quiet tutting beside me.

“I really wasn’t that friendly back then.” He commented genially as I gaped at him.

“This didn’t happen. Stan told me, you were agitated, but once Stan was inside... you, you didn’t do this!”

“Says your precious ‘Stanford Pines’. Because he’s never lied to you before.” Ford grinned nastily and just for a second, I saw a flash of yellow in his eyes.

“Oh no, no, no, no. NO!” I yelled, swinging my arm round to slap Ford.

My wrist was caught in an iron-like grip.

“Aw! Come on Tiny! Aren’t you enjoying your front row seat to the madness and filth those two dragged themselves through?” Ford chuckled manically, eyes changing from warm brown to a glowing yellow. “Aren’t you just appalled?”

I gritted my teeth and tugged at my writ in his grip with a snarl.

  What the fuck is your deal? You were trying to shock me? I knew all of this you, you, you isosceles freak!” I spat defiantly.

Ford’s form flickered as he frowned, his eyes glowing red before his features smoothed themselves down.

“Guess Stan found himself a little fighter! You wanna fight? FINE!” Bill reasserted his natural form, a long black tentacle now surrounding my wrist. Fear gripped me tight, but something inside me fought back.

I swung my free hand, a clenched fist aimed for Bill’s eye.

“Ah, ah, ah Tiny! Don’t be rude.” Bill chided, another tentacle stopping my fist and twisting my arm painfully behind my back.

“Wanna see how it ends?” Bill asked, leaning back in the air as he turned me to watch the memory.

Before I could even blink or turn away, Ford pulled the trigger on the cross bow.

I cried out as the bolt pierced Stan’s throat, Stan falling to his knees and his hand’s uselessly scrabbling at his throat as he was wracked by spasms, choking on the blood filling his mouth.

“You bastard! I screamed, thrashing uselessly in Bill’s grip. “That never happened! Do you hear me?!  IT. NEVER. HAPPENED!”

“Oh but it could of! That’s the brilliant thing about it!” Bill cackled gleefully as he slammed the door shut. “I could have mad poor little Fordsy so insane and deliriously mad, he’d have killed his own brother! But you? You seem much more stable, which means I have to get rid of you. There’s something big coming and I can’t have you ruin it for me Tiny.”

Bill wrenched the final locked door off its hinges and peered inside.

“Looky here! Something I’ve never seen before! Should be fun!”

I struggled twice as hard as Bill began to push me toward the gaping black doorway.

“Any last words?” Bill asked.

“Go to hell.” I spat.

“I’ve been. It was boring.” Bill said cruelly as he pushed me straight into the waiting pitch blackness.

As the blackness covered me, a suffocating force stole the start of my scream.

Total darkness engulfed me. I had no idea where I was any more. My arm was released and I heard Bill cackle manically.

“Enjoy Tiny! Would love to stay, but I need that code! Hope those kids do better than you do! See ya!”

Panic struck properly then, my breathing coming fast and shallow as I felt the darkness tighten its grip on me. The kids! God, what was I going to do?!

I felt my head swim, my lungs burning as oxygen was squeezed out of me. Slumping to the ground (or at least what I hoped to be ground), I felt tears well up.

This was hopeless! Stan!

What had we gotten ourselves into?

Suddenly, like breaking the surface of the ocean, light came flooding back and I sucked a deep breath in as the tightness around my throat vanished.

I stared down at the bright magenta ground under my knees, reaching down to rest a hand on it. Shock surged through me.

I had six fingers!

What?!

Scrambling to my feet, I found myself running to a nearby outcrop of rock and diving behind it, breathing harshly.

“Ok, ok. Calm down. You don’t have far. Just over the next ridge Stanford, you can do this.” I muttered, feeling a jolting disconnect as my voice came out gruff and low.

Wait.

Had I just said my name was Stanford?

Was... was I seeing through Ford’s eyes? As if to test, I tried to get my hand to move.

Nothing.

I tried again.

A six fingered hand moved, but only to reach into a pocket and pull out what looked like ammunition stores for a rifle. Something I definitely hadn’t been thinking about.

Holy shit, I thought to myself. I’m with Ford. In his mind?

Ford swore under his breath and glanced out behind the rock. I could hear a shrieking not too far away and felt his (our?) blood run cold.

Ford hauled himself up and we set off at a run, the colourful landscape flying past.

“Next ridge, next ridge, fuck! Move your ass Stanford!” Ford hissed at himself, the sound of something large catching up to us quickly.

All of a sudden, we were sprawled on the ground, coughing in the clouds of pink dust that surrounded us.

A large claw hooked under us and rolled us over.

I screamed as I saw what was facing us.

A fanged mouth, each tooth as long as my forearm and dripping with viscous salvia, snarled as 5 reflective silver eyes showed me Ford’s own terrified reflection. He looked old, at least Stanley’s age.

Was this happening right now?

The beast snarling above us shook its head as it roared triumphantly, spit flecking us and the ground, the mesmerising shimmer of its furry pelt drawing my attention. 

Ford snarled back and brought a compact weapon out of his sleeve, firing one, twice, at the creature’s exposed throat. I shrieked as a deluge of warm blood hit us, a shriek that turned into a full scream as the corpse of the creature came thumping down on top of us.

Once again I was thrust into blackness.

 

X

 

I emerged from the darkness with a gasp. Brain scattering, I got to my knees and tried not to retch.

That blood had felt real, not to mention the heat as the creature hit me, Ford... god! What just happened?!

Once the rolling wave of nausea had settled, I got to my feet and noticed I was back in Stan’s mind. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t even know what to trust now.

Had anything I’d seen since being separated from the kids been real?

The kids!

I went to run, only to be hit by a wave of dizziness as my legs gave out under me. I hit the floor hard.

Cursing Bill, cursing Gideon, cursing Ford and cursing Stan for dragging me into this madness all those years ago, I pushed myself back until I was resting against the wall.

Was Ford alive? What I’d seen, was that real?

The memories I’d seen, they were real. I knew about those moments in Stan’s life. But what about Ford? Was that real? It had felt real... but what was that door? And where did it lead too?

Getting to my feet slowly, I took a step forward, waiting for the dizziness to return. When it didn’t, I kept moving, in any direction. It didn’t matter which way I went, I had no idea where I was anymore.

All I could hope was that when (if) Stan woke up, I’d be jolted back into my own body.

Wait. Could I hear synthesized music?

I suddenly felt something grab me and pull me through Stan’s mind to a strange raised platform.

Deposited almost gently onto the ground, I wobbled as I blearily took in what was in front of me.

A giant Bill was struggling above a spinning hole below him as Mabel, Dipper, Soos and those two bright young men from earlier focused on him. Bill yelled nonsensically in anger when he saw me.

“No, no, no! ENOUGH!”  He screamed as he exploded. A white light blinded us, slowly fading to reveal we were all hanging in a white space. Bill had returned to his normal size and was examining us closely.

“You know, I’m impressed with you guys.” He commented, shooting me a glance. “You’re more clever than you look. Especially the fat one.”

I glanced at Soos as Bill continued.

“So I’m gonna let you all of the hook. You might come in handy later.” Bill’s voice deepened. “BUT KNOW THIS: A darkness approaches. A day will come in the future when everything you care about will change! Until then I’ll be watching you! I’LL BE WATCHING YOU!”

Bill faded into nothing, his words echoing in the space.

“He’s gone! We did it!” Dipper cried, smile on his face. They all cheered and I managed to smile. I felt entirely wrung out. I wanted to scream, cry and maybe sleep for days.

There was a shaking  and we all began to flicker slightly.

“AH! Stan must be waking up!” Dipper squawked as Soos swam over to me.

“You ok Mrs Pines?” He asked, taking a gentle hold on my flickering arm, once again displaying a perceptiveness that would have surprised most.

“I just want to go home Soos.” I whispered as we faded all together.

 

We all jolted awake with a shout, lying on the floor of the living room once more. I was the first to stand, eyes blinking rapidly as I forced my jelly mind to work and stumbled over to Stan.

“We did it!” Mabel shouted as she stood, waking Stan.

“What? Did what? What are you all doing here?” Stan jerked awake, eying us all suspiciously. “And why was I dreaming of two brightly coloured and radical young men?”

“Grunkle Stan! You’re ok!” Dipper cried as he flung himself at Stan.

A completely different attitude from early I noted dully. Stan gave me a glance and I shrugged.

“What is this, a hug?”

“Nope! It’s a chokehold!” Dipper announced cheerfully as he wrangled Stan into position, tightening his grip. Mabel and Soos laughed, my own mouth twisting into a tired smile, just glad to be back in the real world.

Dipper released Stan and Stan turned to look at him, faint smile on his face as he rubbed his neck.

“Not bad kid, not bad.”

“I’m just glad Gideon didn’t get into the safe. I really love this old shack.” Mabel sad happily, walking over to take hold of my hand. I squeezed her hand affectionately.

“Group hug!” Soos yelled suddenly, all of us turning to look at him. “No? I never know the right time!”

There was a low rumble outside and the shack began to shake. What now?!

Dipper glanced at us.

“Hey, do you guys feel...?”

And explosion rattled through the house, knocking us to the floor.

I groaned painfully as I lifted my head to find a wall blown open in the side of the shack, someone standing in front of it.

“Oh, I’m sorry Pines family. Did I wake you?” Gideon asked sickeningly.

Stan had gotten to his knees and was facing Gideon with anger and disbelief etched on his face.

“But... We defeated Bill!” Dipper managed out, staring at Gideon.

“Bill failed me! So I switched to plan B; dynamite!” Gideon snarled.

Stan looked between us all, reaching out to me.

“What? Bill? Who? What are you guys all talking about?”

“Spoiler alert Stanford!” Gideon yelled, “I’ve got the deed! The Mystery Shack belongs to me! So get out of my property!” He brought a walkie talkie to his mouth. “Daddy? Bring it around the front.”

I pulled Stan up as we heard the approaching rumble of a construction vehicle. Without stopping to think, we grabbed a protesting Dipper and Mabel before running from the house, Soos following close behind.

We made it outside just in time to see a wrecking ball go sailing through the air and smash through the shacks sign.

“Someone pinch me dude.” Soos said desperately as the broken sign landed in front of us.

My knee’s just hit the ground, Dipper and Mabel grasping at me for reassurance as our life’s work was smashed in front of us.

 

X

 

A few hours later, I paused by the back door of Mona’s house and heard the stifled sobs from outside.

Slipping out the door, I wordlessly sat next to Stan. Taking hold of his hand, I waited until he had wiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve.

“Whadda we do Carla?” He asked hoarsely.

“I don’t know.” I answered hollowly. “What can we do?”

“The shack... fuck.” Stan swore quietly. “We’ve lost everything.”

“The last thirty years of memories.” I murmured, not thinking. Stan gave a sharp inhale.

“The portal Carla. The journal, our notes, Ford’s notes. We’ve lost it all.”

“Let’s just hope Gideon doesn’t find it.” I commented dully, my body and brain still exhausted from the events of the day.

“That’s it Carla? Just hope?”

“Do you have a magic solution up your sleeve?”

“Geez, ya sound like ya don’t even care.” Stan touched my arm and I bit my tongue, trying not to start crying. “What’s going on Carla?”

“What’s going on? What’s going on?! I saw you possessed today Stan! I’ve been scared shitless more times than I care to recall, our home was blown up, we’re homeless, and I’m exhausted!”

Stan leaned back, shocked by my sudden and rapid outburst.

“Ok, ok. Fair points, all of ‘em. But look at it this way, it can’t get worse.” Stan shrugged, ever the opportunist.

“Maybe not worse, but it gets stranger.” I said quietly. “Dipper has a journal. And it’s not the one we already have. Had.”

“What!” Stan turned to me with a wild look in his eyes.

“I don’t know how he got it. I never got a chance to ask him. But I saw it and I presume he still has it now.”

Stan stood quickly and I scrambled to my feet, grabbing his wrist.

“Stan! Stop! If you go barging in there asking questions about it, he’s gonna want to know how YOU know about it!” I warned. Stan paused, one hand resting on the door.

“So whadda we do?” Stan repeated his earlier question. Luckily, this time I had a response.

“We wait. Right now, we have nothing. We need to find a way to get the shack back that doesn’t involve murder. I’m ok with child violence though.” I added, causing Stan to snort. “Once we get the shack back, we can figure out what to do about the next journal. But Mabel and Dipper, in  there,” I pointed past Stan at the house, “they need to come first right now.  We’re in charge of them. One of us needs to tell Matt and Emily what happened.”

“I’ll do it.” Stan sighed before looking at me properly for the first time that night. “You really do look wrecked doll. Ya should be in there, sleeping it off.”

I shook my head, still haunted by the creature I’d seen through Ford’s eyes.

“No... no. I’m fine. Well, I’m not, but I couldn’t sleep right now.”

Stan smiled sadly and tugged me into his arms, holding me tightly. I breathed deeply, mind racing.

Why didn’t I just tell Stan the truth? That Ford might possibly be alive? That Bill had been in Ford’s mind and caused his paranoia? That I was terrified about what would happen if we ever finished the portal? That I actually didn’t care right now if Gideon destroyed the shack and buried the damn portal? That I felt like I was dangling over a precipice and about to fall any second?

My thoughts tumbled dizzily through my head, even as Stan let me go with a quick kiss to the forehead before walking back inside.

I sank down on the steps again, hearing Stan pick up the phone. As his voice wandered out of the kitchen window, casually reassuring the twins parents that Mabel and Dipper were perfectly safe and well cared for, my tears started.

And once they started, I couldn’t stop them.

I could feel the weight of 30 years worth of lies and secrets crushing me and I just wanted to scream.

All this work for Ford and yet there was Bill, taunting and teasing.

I’d had a taste of what he could do. Ford had had that creep in his mind for god knows how long! No wonder Ford had written such frantic warnings about him in the journal. We were messing with something so much bigger than just the portal.

Sniffing pathetically, I looked up at the clear night’s sky.

“What are we gonna do?” I asked quietly, feeling very alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanna give a quick credit to Energywitch who gave me the idea for a scene where Carla or Stan would see something leading them to believe that Ford is still alive :) so thank you very much!


	19. July 2012 - The Truth Comes to Light

July 2012

 

The camera lights flashed and I smiled from the side as Mabel easily stole the spotlight easily, announcing a family karaoke event.

“-an amazing karaoke performance by our family band, Love Patrol Alpha!”

Stan and Dipper immediately looked uncomfortable while I resisted the urge to flee.

“I don’t know about that...” Dipper started.

“I would never agree to that.” Stan deadpanned.

“Too late! I wrote your names on the list! It’s happening!” Mabel ignored their complaints.

Wendy suddenly blew an air horn.

 “Buy a ticket people! You know you don’t have anything going on in your lives! I’m talking to you, Pizza Guy! Don’t lame out on me!” Wendy yelled, running out onto the porch being followed by everyone.

I finally got the chance to walk over and slip under Stan’s arm as Mabel climbed down from the counter. Stan sighed contentedly as his arm squeezed my waist.

“The town loves us, we finally got that Gideon smell out of the carpet... Everything is finally going my way.”

I smiled. Stan wasn’t completely wrong. There was still a disturbing smell of baby powder in the house, but it was getting fainter.

Dipper glanced at his sister and fiddled with his fingers before looking up at Stan.

“Hey, Grunkle Stan? Now that we have a moment, I’ve been meaning to ask you for my journal back”

Stan started, patting himself down with his free hand.

“Wha? Journal? Oh!” Stan laughed and let go of me to reach under the counter where he’d hidden the journal this morning. “You mean this old thing! It was so boring I couldn’t even finish it!”

I bit the inside of my cheek at Stan’s audacity. There was a stack of photocopied pages waiting for us in the basement even as he lied through his false teeth to Dipper.

Dipper looked shocked as Stan offered him the journal back.

“Wait, you’re just gonna give it to me?” Just like that?”

“What else do you want? A kiss on the cheek?” Stan mocked, waggling the book.

“I... I gotta go!” Dipper practically squeaked as he snatched the book out of Stan’s hand and dragged Mabel out of the gift shop.

“I wouldn’t mind a kiss on the cheek.” Soos risked.

“Not gonna happen.” Stan shut Soos down and I rolled my eyes. Walking over to Soos, I beckoned him to lean down and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks Mrs Pines.” Soos said, blushing as he straightened. “You want me to help with the cleaning today?”

“Yes please dear.” I answered before turning to find Stan already counting the money in the cash register.

Wendy sauntered back inside with another wad of cash, visitors to the shop entering slowly behind her.

“Dude! We almost sold out of tickets! Everyone wants in on Mabel’s karaoke fest!” She crowed happily, waving the money in the air.   
“Uh huh. Just get behind the counter kid.” Stan grunted, snatching the cash from Wendy’s hands before striding away into the house. I caught sight of Wendy pulling a face at his back and stifled a laugh. Wendy saw me watching and smiled sheepishly.

“Tell you what Wendy,” I walked over and gently pushed her out from behind the counter, “I’ll take over counter duty if you don’t mind doing the shelf restocking. My back’s still sore today.”

“Sure thing Mrs Pines!” Wendy smiled. “You want me to get you anything for your back?”

“No thank you dear. Just need to rest it today.”

“That’s not good Mrs Pines.” Soos wandered over, holding the broom. “If your back is sore, you won’t be able to dance at the party tonight.”

“Yeah, and you and Stan are really good! You know, for old people.” Wendy added. I smiled warmly.

“Thank you for that Wendy. And while it is a shame I might not be able to dance tonight, I’d rather lose one night of dancing than be in bed for a week.”

Soos nodded.

“Good point dude.”

I settled behind the counter as more customers filed in, filling the shop and chattering between themselves as we all got back into our usual routines.

Stan walked back into the room and leaned on the counter, examining the shop. Straight back to work as Mr Mystery.

Soos had started sweeping absently, mostly just moving the dust around rather than actually getting rid of it, before suddenly staring out of the window.

“Hey, Mr Pines? What’s the code word I’m supposed to yell when I see a government vehicle?”

Stan darted over to Soos with speed that did not match his age.

“Wait, what?!” Stan peered out of the window. “A government vehicle?”

I held my breath. Surely not? When Stan had managed to get the portal active last night, I hadn’t expected us to be noticed so quickly. We didn’t even know how to keep a constant power flow or if we could stabilise it. Were we being watched?

Stan went pale and gave me a scared look. My throat went dry.

Slamming the windows shut, Stan rushed back to the counter and grabbed for the intercom before yelling into it.

“The Mystery Shack is now closed, everybody out! I will not hesitate to use the hose on the elderly!” He threatened.

Mabel and Dipper came running back into the shop just as Stan slammed the door after the last customer had fled from the shop.

“Grunkle Stan? What’s happening?” Mabel asked, looking between me behind the counter and Stan pacing anxiously.

“Yeah, you never shut down the gift shop.” Dipper chimed in.

Stan didn’t bother replying, still pacing, eyes darting back and forth as he tried to think. For once, I didn’t have an answer for them either.

The doorbell rang, followed by several hard raps to the wood.

Stan jumped and took a breath, smoothing his jacket down and checking his pockets before throwing the door open with a flourish.

“Welcome to the Mystery Shack gentlemen!” Stan grinned. “What can I get you? Key chains? Snow globes?” Stan produced various knick knacks from his pockets before tossing them back over his shoulder, Soos catching them flawlessly. “Or maybe these rare photos of American presidents?”

I closed my eyes and bit back as groan as I watched Stan attempt to bribe the two suited  government agents now standing in the door.

The said agents held up I.D’s, looking around Stan to observe all of us in the shop.

“My name is Agent Powers and this is Agent Trigger, we’re here to investigate reports of mysterious activity in this town.” The older of the two agents stated.

“Activity!” Agent Trigger pointed accusingly at Stan.

Stan did his best to laugh it off.

“Mysterious activity? In the Mystery Shack? You gotta be joking!”

Agent Powers tucked his I.D away with a stern face.

“I assure you, I’m not. I was born with a rare disorder that made me physically incapable of experiencing humour.”

Stan laughed nervously as I stared. Was that even a real disorder?

Agent Powers stared blankly at Stan.

“I don’t understand that noise you’re making with your mouth. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we are conducting an investigation.”

“Investigation!” Agent Triggers poked Stan in the chest as both men entered the gift shop.

Stan caught my eye over their shoulders and nodded slightly. I slipped out from behind the counter and stood just in front of the vending machine, reaching for the twins.

As I rested my hands on their shoulder, intent on whisking them away and out of the gift shop as quickly as I could, Dipper ducked out from under my hand and hurried forward. I cursed internally, tightening my grip on Mabel before she could do the same.

“Wait! Wait, did you guys say you’re investigating the mysteries of this town?” He asked eagerly. Stan paled further.

Agent Powers glanced down at Dipper.

“That information is classified,” he knelt and met Dipper’s eyes, “but, yes. Between you and me, I believe there is an conspiracy of paranormal origin all connected to this town.” He leaned closer and I had to really concentrate to hear his next words. “We’re just one small lead away from blowing the lid on this entire mystery.”

My blood ran cold and I looked at Stan again. His mouth was set in a firm line, telling me that he’d also heard those words. We were dancing a knife’s edge here.

“Are you kidding me?!” Dipper practically squeaked in response. “I’m investigating the exact same thing! I found this journal in the woods which has almost all the answers! If we work together, we could crack the case!”

Agent Powers looked over his shoulder at his partner, who nodded slightly, before handing a card to Dipper.

“If you have evidence of these claims, we should talk.” He intoned, before standing.

I wasn’t sure I was still breathing, seeing all the hard work Stan and I had done spiralling away from us, not to mention what would happen to us if the portal was discovered... Dipper continued talking, unaware of the danger he was putting us in.

“We could talk right now! Please, please. C-come in! I have so much to show you!” Dipper gestured toward the house’s entrance and I wondered just how much trouble I’d get in for tackling an official government agent. But Stan saved me from what would probably be the rest of my life in jail, and stepped in.

“Hehe, I’m sorry agents. The kid has an overactive imagination. And like, a sweating problem.”

“Haha! Zing!” Mabel laughed under my hand, still oblivious to everything.

“Paranormal stuff is just part of the gift shop lore. Sells more tickets you know?” Stan continued, snapping his fingers.

Soos popped up behind the agents, slapping a few bumper stickers on them and adding fuzzy antennas to their heads.

“Popodopopo! Swag!” He cheered.

The agents glanced at each other and took several steps toward the door.

“We have other spots to investigate. We’ll be on our way.” Agent Powers turned to leave and I finally felt like I could breathe again.

Agent Triggers swept an armful of Mr Mystery bobble heads off the shelves on his way out.

“I’m confiscating this as evidence!” He announced before leaving.

I really couldn’t have cared less, anything to get rid of them and away from the house.

Dipper frowned and went to run out after them.

“Wait! No, wait! We’ve got so much to talk about!”

Stan grabbed him and turned him back towards me.

“Hold it kiddo. The last thing you want around during a party, is cops.” Stan suddenly eyed the vending machine and I glanced back, shocked to see it swinging slightly away from the wall.

Letting go of Mabel, I leaned against it with a subtle click as it shut securely again. Damn hydraulic hinges must have been damaged when Gideon blew up the side of the house.

Stan plucked the card from Dipper’s unsuspecting grasp.

“I’m confiscating that card.”

Dipper spun round and gasped, ready to start arguing.

“Now, how’s about you go be a normal kid. Flirt with a girl, or steal a pie off a windowsill somewhere.” Stan ordered, grabbing an old cigar box from under the counter and placing the card inside it with other items of contraband before heading past me into the house.

“But Grunkle Stan! You don’t understand!” Dipper complained uselessly.

“And don’t go talking to those agents!” Stan called back.

Dipper looked hurt and angry, Mabel moving to comfort him.

“Dipper,” I said softly, “maybe just this once, trust Stan. Nothing good comes from telling government agents everything. Besides, there’s nothing paranormal about this town.”

Dipper just glared at me and ran out of the shop, Mabel not far behind him. I sighed.

How could I even start to explain this to him anyway?

Wendy and Soos were still standing uncomfortably in the shop.

“Well, I don’t think we’ll see any more customers today after that excitement. Might as well start getting ready for the big party tonight.” I forced some jolliness into my voice. “Wendy, you can go down to the copy store and pick up the posters tonight. Soos, head down to the store and pick up the food and drinks. Everything is already paid for.”

Both of them nodded, leaving the shop with nervous glances back over their shoulders.

 

X

 

Later that evening, I glanced out the window of the house and saw Dipper and Wendy messing around with the glowing effects of the UV lights. My heart swelled to see Dipper finally looking happier. It had been a very tense afternoon.

Turning away with a sigh, I walked into the locked gift shop and quickly tapped the code into the vending machines panel before slipping behind it.

When I arrived down in the basement, I walked over to the desk and sat in the old chair, surveying the mess in front of me. The desk was piled high the photocopied pages of the third journal pages. Scribbled notes littered the desk, partially burying the other two journals.

I still couldn’t believe both Dipper and Gideon had had a journal each! How had Dipper managed to keep that a secret from us? And how the hell had that idiot shyster Gideon find the second journal?!

If it hadn’t been for all that craziness a week back, we’d have been none the wiser and we wouldn’t have the information we’d needed for so long to finally finish working on the portal.

Speaking of the portal, I glanced through the window into the next room.

The portal was getting close to completion. Scarily close. And if the notes I had read and deciphered so far from the journals, I had every reason to be scared.

Ever since we entered Stan’s mind to stop that crazy Bill Cipher, I was constantly looking over my shoulder and seeing him everywhere. In the journals, reflected by the shape of the portal, even in the peculiar shape of the windows in the house! Especially in the attic.

I was seeing eyes everywhere. Not to mention spending all my spare time thinking about Bill’s shocking reveal about Ford’s current whereabouts.

Stan just dismissed my paranoia but I couldn’t help but feel Bill Cipher had more to do with this than we knew. And Bill had certainly known Ford, that was written in, slightly shaky, black and white (and I KNEW it too, albeit thanks to Bill).

Shaking my head, I pushed away from the desk, the chair gliding over the floor until I reached the monitors on the far wall.

Flipping a few switches, I watched as the screens flickered to life, showing scenes from inside and around the shack.

Wendy and Dipper had vanished and Mabel was talking to the local cops.

“Are those party squeakers?” I muttered, frowning slightly before moving to the next screen.

Stan was in the gift shop, pacing back and forth while rubbing his jaw. He was clearly worried.

I couldn’t blame him.

Those agents showing up just after we’d managed to start the portal (even if it happened to power down almost immediately), was far too coincidental. We’d have to be so much more careful now.

Just as I was considering going back upstairs to comfort Stan, I watched as he glanced over his shoulder at the flashing lights of the party before crossing to the vending machine.

Smiling, I scooted back over to the desk, tidying away the mess slightly. Staking the first two journals next to the console for Stan, I picked up a notebook and an old secret codes book we’d found in Ford’s stuff.

I was trying to figure out the multiple codes scattered throughout the third journal. Stan thought I was wasting my time (“They’re just nerd scribbles baby.”), but it just seemed so much more than that. Why bother to hide it if it meant nothing?

Some of the codes were easy enough with help from the code book, I’d already figured out a lot of what we needed, but there were strangely undecipherable scribbles that matched nothing I’d ever seen. I wouldn’t have put it past Ford to make up his own code, which meant deciphering this without him may be impossible.

“We’ve got trouble.” Stan announced as he arrived down in the basement.

“Trouble?” I echoed, spinning to face him.

“Dipper called those agents.”

“What?!” I stood, papers fluttering to the floor in my haste.

Stan sighed and pushed his glasses up to rub his eyes.

“I can’t let them find this Carla. We’re getting so close. I can feel it.” Stan sounded defeated.

Stepping over the scattered papers, I reached out and rubbed his arms wanting to reassure him, but honestly unsure of how too.

“They’re not going to Stan,” I bluffed, “they’re not going to stop us. Dipper doesn’t know that the portal is down here. We’re just going to have to be extra secretive from now on.” I managed to sound soothing, even as my mind buzzed over just HOW much work that would require.

Stan gave me a dubious look as he moved away to sit at the desk.

“Those agents could ruin everything,” Stan seemed to be talking to himself, “darn kid! He has no idea what he’s messing with. He’s stubborn, that’s his problem.” Stan stared down at the journal. “Sorta like me I suppose.” He smiled sadly.

I stepped closer and rested a hand on his shoulder, knowing he didn’t need me to say anything. Stan shook his head fiercely.

“Ugh, I got too much on my mind to worry about those kids right now.”

I gathered my fallen notes and sat on the second, old rickety chair beside Stan.

“Ya still working on that junk huh?” Stan quipped as he began flicking switches into positions that were all too familiar to us now.

“It means something Stan. It has too. He never did anything without a reason.” I replied, propping my feet up on the desk as I began to scribble out some guesses. “I just can’t figure it out yet.”

“Why are you so obsessed with it? Ya haven’t let up on it since we got the shack back.” Stan commented.

I rifled through my notes, pulling out the several sheets of paper relating to Bill.

“Because of this Stan.” I held the first sheet out. Stan took it and groaned when he saw what it was.

“This again Carla?” he gave me an exasperated look.

“Yes! I can’t ignore it. Bill was in your mind! Your actual mind! He knew about Ford ,and I don’t know exactly how, but he certainly knew you weren’t Ford from the beginning! Read what’s written in here. He’s why this portal was built! This is why Ford became so paranoid, I’m sure of it!”I snatched the paper back and shoved two more in front of Stan’s face.

Stan flinched, swallowing as his eyes darted back and forth as he tried not to focus on the disturbing pages before him.

The scribbled eyes on the page stared unblinkingly back, the black ink overlaid with blood red words and strange symbols.

 A true picture of a tortured mind.

“I need to know what this means! It scares me. That Bill creature was in your hard and he has a connection to Ford. I’m seeing him everywhere and I just know he’s bad news. If he has anything to do with the portal, then I don’t think-”

Stan interrupted me by grabbing the sheets of paper, crumpling them up into a ball he then tossed over his shoulder.

“Stan!” I jolted forward, grabbing his arm.

“No Carla. This is ridiculous. Ya getting as bad as Dipper.” Stan grumbled. “Ya wanna help? Figure out the rest of the codes on the blueprint pages. That’s all I need.”

I was speechless at his outburst.

Ever since we’d found out about the extra journals, Stan had been filled with an almost manic energy to finish the portal. He’d started sleeping down here again, talking only about what needed to be done to bring Ford home... Everything centred on the the journals and getting the portal running again.

Pushing my chair back sharply, I marched over to the ball of paper and picked it up.

Stan flinched as I dragged my chair away from him, watching out of the corner of his eye as I grabbed my notes again.

“All you care about is getting him back. You’re ignoring everything you think isn’t important. And you’re ignoring me.” I said calmly and quietly, my heart beating hard and furious.

“It’s always been about getting him back.” Stan muttered, examining the second journal.

“And what about the multiple, frantic warnings of great danger? Are you really willing to risk your life just to get him back?”

“My life? Yes. I caused his disappearance, I’ll get him back. No matter the coast.”

“And what about me? And the twins? Soos? Wendy? Are you willing to risk us too?” I continued.

Stan hesitated.

A cold anger settled like stones in my stomach as I shook my head slowly in disbelief.

“You actually are. I can’t believe you’d be-” I cut myself off, looking away and taking a breath before continuing. “I didn’t mind the danger when we were younger and had all the time in the world to sort this out. But now? This is getting too dangerous Stan! Strange, all-knowing dream demons, gravity reversing surges, government agents showing up at our door... I’m worried Stan! And you’re not even bothering to listen to me anymore! What about Mabel and Dipper? What if something happens to them?” My voice gradually rose, echoing in the small room. Stan remained hunched over the control panel, not replying.

“Ford wrote that Bill wanted to destroy this world. And that the portal was a gateway for Bill to do just that. Can’t you at least TRY to understand why I’m worried?” I pleaded.

“If there’s a chance to get him back, I’m taking it.” Stan finally replied in monotone, the same words he’d been saying since 1982.

It was like all the air was sucked out of me.

“What if he doesn’t come back?” I said quietly.

“Don’t. Just don’t Carla, we’ve already-” Stan started in warning.

“It’s been 30 years. We don’t know where he is, we don’t know how to find him through the portal, we don’t even know if he’s still-”

“HE’S NOT DEAD!” Stan yelled, standing and facing me, breathing hard.

“You’re going to risk everyone who loves you on the CHANCE that Ford survived what he himself called a Nightmare realm?” I yelled back, standing my ground in front of Stan.

“YES!” Stan roared, hands clenching tightly by his side.

“WHY?! He didn’t care about you until he needed something from you!” I could feel tears spilling from my eyes as the argument quickly unravelled into an old, deep seated resentment. “And yet YOU’VE given up your LIFE for him! He doesn’t deserve any of this!”

“I NEED him Carla!” Stan yelled back, eyes glassy as well. “Always have! I need him to know I’m sorry! Sorry for ruining his life!”

I opened my mouth to scream back when my eye caught sight of one of the security monitors.

“Either the party went downhill fast, or we have a zombie problem.” I muttered, glad of the distraction. Stan floundered slightly at the rapid change of pace, hopelessly confused.

“What the - ” he started, only to be interrupted by an arm bursting out from the wall nearest me.

“Carla!” Stan grabbed me and held me behind his body as he twisted the arm hard enough for it to break away and land on the floor. I gave a short shriek as the disembodied arm began to writhe and crawl towards us.

“Eugh.” Stan grunted and stomped down hard, the arm disintegrating. Stan examined the bottom of his shoe with a look of disgust before turning back to me.

“You ok baby?” He asked. I nodded, sinking into his arms gratefully, our argument forgotten for now. All of a sudden, a thought struck me.

Apparently Stan had the same thought.

“THE KIDS!” We yelled together and ran for the elevator.

 

Reaching the back of the hidden door, we could hear yelling, followed by groaning and grunting. Stan clenched his teeth and tightened his grip on the baseball bat.

“Get to the kids and get upstairs.” He ordered.

“What about you?” I asked, fighting the shaking coursing through me. We’d never faced anything like this before. Gnomes and sentient campfires, yes. Zombies, no.

“I’ll be fine. Keeping Mabel and Dipper safe is more important.” Stan braced a hand against the door. “Ready?”

Before I could answer, we heard Mabel screaming.

“DIPPER!”

Stan swung the door open and I ducked under his arm. I caught sight of Dipper struggling in the grasp of a zombie and pointed. Stan nodded and launched forward, already swinging. We reached Dipper just in time for Stan to whack the zombie holding him across the head, knocking its skull clean off and grinding it to dust under his foot.

“YOU LOT! ATTIC! NOW!” Stan ordered, swinging at another zombie. There were zombies everywhere I looked, I was terrified.

“Grunkle... Grunkle Stan?” Dipper asked in shock.

“I said NOW!” Stan repeated as another zombie launched itself at him.

Dipper grabbed my hand and Mabel’s, all of us turning to run back into the house, Waddles at our heels as more zombies approached.

“All right you undead jerks, YOU READY TO DIE TWICE?!” Stan roared behind us.

We entered the front room, Dipper still tugging us along as I stumbled, sides aching and back starting to complain loudly again. Stan had followed us, still batting away the undead.

“The only wrinkly monster who harasses my family is me! Take that! And that!” Stan swung the bat several more times. “Eat it no eyes!”

I turned in time to see a zombie catch hold of the bat in its jaw and snap it in two, splintering it into two useless pieces. Stan gritted his teeth, and sent his fist flying into the grey, decaying face of the zombie.

“Stan!” I grabbed the back of his torn jacket and pulled sharply, Stan narrowly avoiding being bitten. Stan growled as he righted himself, facing the undead horde.

“ANYONE ELSE WANNA PIECE!” He yelled, panting heavily.

Letting go of him, I turned back to the twins.

“GO!” I screamed, pushing them ahead of me toward the stairs.

“ATTIC!” Stan yelled again, light glinting off his brass knuckles as he punched a zombie through the ribcage of another zombie. I heard his clothing rip and fear lanced my heart.

“STAN!” I cried out.

“MOVE!” Stan was behind me, shoving me further up the stairs.

Reaching the small landing, we glanced back. The house was full of zombies. Stan quickly grabbed the old grandfather clock and began to heave it over. Joining him, I helped shove it down the stairs.

The clock knocked the stairs clear of zombies, blocking it partially, but more zombies simply began to clamber over the wreckage.

“Time to move!” Stan panted, dragging me after him. “Get into the attic with the kids and shut the damn door!” He ordered, darting into our bedroom.

I stared after him for a moment before a loud crash from the stairs spurred me into moving again.

Running up into the small room behind the twins, I slammed the door shut.

Mabel, Dipper and Waddles were huddled together in the middle of the room.

“Grauntie Carla, what are we gonna do?” Dipper asked, voice wavering.

Before I could come up with an answer, there was a loud banging at the door, the wood bowing slightly.

Mabel squeaked and reached out for me as I moved back toward them, still terrified but ready to kill any undead monster who wanted to touch my niece and nephew.

The door finally crashed open, Stan stumbling through it.

“Ooh! Ow. Everything hurts.” Stan coughed and leaned over on his knees.

“Stan!” I breathed in relief and hurried over to help him straighten up, surreptitiously checking him for injuries. Stan shrugged me off and jammed a chair under the door handle just as we heard the slow thumping footfalls of the hoard on the stairs.

Reaching into his pocket, Stan pressed something heavy and familiar into my hand. Glancing down, I recognised the engraved brass knuckles Stan had got me after the Manotaur accident back in ’89. Nodding grimly, I tucked them in my pocket before Stan finally faced Mabel and Dipper.

“Grunkle Stan! That was amazing! Are you alright?” Dipper took a step back, glancing at the floor sheepishly, “Heh heh, well, at least you can’t deny magic exists anymore, right?”

Stan paused and glanced at me. I nodded, knowing this was going to be uncomfortable for all of us, despite the bad timing.

“Kid, We’ve always known.” Stan sighed.

“Wait, what?” Dipper was floored. “What are you talking about?”

“We know about the crazy stuff that goes on here.” I shrugged, “we just didn’t tell you.”

“I mean, we’re not idiots Dipper,” Stan took over, “Of course this town is weird! And one thing we learnt about that weirdness is that it’s dangerous!”

A zombie hand suddenly broke through the door, grasping blindly. I grabbed one of the twin’s golf clubs and wacked the hand hard. It exploded into dust with a howl from its owner. Stan tugged me away from the door and we all backed into the middle of the room.

“We’re sorry we lied to you guys.” I offered, keeping an eye on the door, where more zombies were scrambling to punch through the door.

“We’ve only been lying about it to try to keep you away from it. To try to protect you from it!” Stan whirled round as a zombie came through the window. Stan’s left hook caught it under the chin and sent it sailing back out the window. I glanced back as Stan stuck his head out the window.

“Looks like we didn’t lie well enough.” I finished when Stan drew back, face grim.

Mabel grabbed Waddles and held him close as her little face paled.

“What do we do, what do we do?” She asked frantically. Dipper began pacing, pulling occasionally at his hat.

“Well, normally the journal would help us, but there’s nothing in there about defeating zombies!” Dipper paused and pulled the journal from his jacket, flipping it open and showing us uselessly blank pages.

Until the black light the twins had on the floor lit up the pages.

Mabel perked up.

“Wait, wait, wait! The text! It’s glowing in the black light!”

“What?”

I looked across at Stan as Dipper began flipping through pages, revealing more information than we’d thought the books ever contained.

“All this time I thought I knew all the journal’s secret, but they’re written in some sort of invisible ink!” Dipper exclaimed.

“Invisible ink?” Stan echoed hollowly. I knew how he was feeling. Ford had hidden things from us even while running through another dimension. Now we might finally have what we needed.

Dipper stopped at the page depicting a zombie.

“This is it! ‘Zombies have a weakness! Previously thought to be invincible, their skulls can be shattered by a perfect three part harmony’. Three part harmony, how can we create that? I have a naturally high-pitched scream...?”

Stan shrugged.

“I can make noises with my body? Sometimes intentionally!”

Mabel stood, her panic replaced by a steely calm.

“Boys, boys. I think you’re both missing the obvious solution here.” She smiled and it clicked in my head.

“Singing! You have to sing!” I blurted out, Mabel punching the air.

“Yeah! You got it Grauntie Carla! Love Patrol Alpha are a-go!”

Dipper and Stan put up their hands to protest but I whacked the golf club against the floor to get their attention just as another zombie hand broke through the door.

“You three! Get up on that roof and start singing! NOW!” I ordered, slipping my brass knuckles onto my fingers and forming a fist. Still fitted perfectly. Adjusting my grip on the handle of the golf club, I looked back at a stunned pair of twins and a reluctant Stan.

“Did I stutter?” I demanded. “Get outside now!”

Stan gave me a warning look and carefully punched out what was left of the window.

“But, but we can’t just leave you Grauntie Carla!” Mabel protested, wriggling slightly as Stan hoisted her up around the waist.

“Trust me sweetie, Carla can handle an undead mob,” Stan gave me a warm look, “she’s as good as me at punching things in the face.”

The door creaked alarmingly, a face appearing in the cracked wood. Gritting my teeth, I punched it hard, rewarded by an irate howl and puff of dust.

“Oh!” Mabel seemed placated as Stan hauled her and the karaoke machine out of the window and up onto the roof.

“Don’t get bitten?” Dipper offered weakly. I jerked a thumb towards the window.

“Go Dipper.”

As Dipper scrambled out onto the roof, I dropped the club by my feet and squared off in front of the door, ignoring the twinge in my back.

“This had better work.” I muttered hearing the high pitched whine of a microphone outside.

 

X

 

Picking my way through the debris, I grimaced as my foot sunk ankle-deep into the rotted chest of a headless zombie.

“Yuck. I guess these shoes are done for now.”

Making my way through the wrecked house, I carefully navigated the stairs and climbed over the destroyed grandfather clock. Dusting myself off pointlessly, I realised I could hear Stan talking in the front room.

“- need to be careful. I don’t know what me and Carla would do with ourselves if ya get hurt on our watch. I’ll let ya hold on to that spooky journal, as long as you promise me you’ll only use it for self-defence, and not go looking for trouble.”

“Ok, as long as you promise me that you and Grauntie Carla don’t have any more bombshell secrets about this town.”

“Promise.”

I winced as Stan made such an impossible promise to Dipper. Walking up to the door, I caught sight of Dipper’s crossed fingers behind his back.

“Promise.” Dipper agreed.

Seems like Stan and I weren’t the only ones keeping secrets.

“Carla!” Stan saw me and grinned. “You’re alright!”

I walked over (avoiding the worst of the zombie corpses) and hugged the twins tightly, ignoring Dipper’s guilty twitch as he realised I’d been behind him.

“Of course I am. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” I grinned as I stood and hugged Stan. Stan looked over my shoulder and surveyed the damage.

“Man, we have a lotta zombie damage to clean. Where’s my handy man anyway?” He asked

“Brains! Braaains!” Soos yelled from behind me.

I yelped and dragged the twins toward Stan.

“Holy Moses!” Stan cussed, grabbing a chair and preparing to swing at the apparently zombified Soos.

Dipper slid out of my grasp.

“Wait! There’s a page in here about curing zombification. It’s gonna take a whole lotta formaldehyde.”

“Ooh, and cinnamon!” Mabel read over her brother’s shoulder.

“Come on Soos, let’s fix you up.” Dipper took the chair from Stan and passed it to Mabel, who began herding Soos out of the room.

“Brains! Braaains!” Soos groaned, waving his arms.

“Soos, cut it out!” Mabel scolded as they left the room.

“Heheh, sorry dude!”

As they made themselves comfortable in the kitchen, I reached out and brushed some  remaining zombie dust from Stan’s shoulder.

“We stocked up on formaldehyde right?” I asked absently.

Stan chuckled and took hold of my hand, gently rubbing a thumb over the red marks left by my brass knuckles.

“You ok?” He asked sincerely. I nodded.

“Shaken, and I’m gonna need a full day for my back to recover, but hey. We survived. Because of karaoke no less. Bet you never thought that would happen.”

“Can’t believe it worked. Makes me wonder how For-”

I shushed him, glancing over my shoulder.

Luckily there was enough noise coming from the kitchen that I doubted the kids would hear us.

“Mabel! The recipe doesn’t say whipped cream!”

“But it’s delicious!”

“Cream, creeeam!”

“See? Soos gets it!”

“Argh! Just gimme that!”

Turning back to Stan, I rubbed my eyes tiredly.

“We need to be so careful Stan.”

“Especially now they know we know.” He agreed.

I leaned forward with a groan and rested my head on Stan’s chest, Stan automatically wrapping his arms around me, hands, gently rubbing the dip of my back where he knew I’d be hurting the most. I slumped further forward, the evening’s tension slowly fading.

“Oops. I think I got zombie in ya hair doll.” Stan apologised after a while.

“Eh. It’s only gonna get worse. We’ve gotta tidy this place up.” I mumbled into Stan’s chest, reluctant to move.

“Oh yeah. Geez, this is gonna suck. How do we even start?”

“Shovel for the bigger chunks of corpse, broom for the smaller bits.” I sighed as I straightened, rolling my sleeves up.

“Gotcha baby.” Stan shucked his ruined jacket off as we began to right the upturned furniture.

It was going to be a long night.

 

X

 

When I finally made it down to the basement, Stan was already scribbling wildly in a notebook, taking occasional glances at the open journal beside him.

“Did ya get it?” He asked as I sat next to him.

“Yeah.” I placed the leather bound journal on the desk, the lamp light illuminating the ‘3’.

“Here. Take a look for anything useful.” Stan nudged a portable black light toward me.

Flipping the cover open, I aimed the light at it.

A cold dread filled my stomach.

Under the glow of the black light, a pair of glasses _(eerily familiar glasses)_ were visible. They could have just been the result of a ink spill, or so I thought, until I spotted the smeared word across the top of the page...

_‘Sixer.’_

I gasped quietly before glancing at Stan quickly. He didn’t seem to have heard me, still focused on his own work. Steeling myself, I looked back down at the ghostly stains. I shivered and flicked quickly to the pages that contained the portal’s main blueprints.

With a now shaking hand, I pointed the black light at it.

_“This machine was meant to create knowledge, but it is too POWERFUL!” The device, if fully operational could,”_

I read the illuminated words, heart beat rising rapidly. Without a word, I snatched the other two journals and ignored Stan’s complaint as I laid the the books out and open in the correct order before shining the black light on them.

_“This machine was meant to create knowledge, but it is too POWERFUL! The device, if fully operational, could tear our universe apart! I was wrong the whole time! It must not fall into the wrong hands. If the clock ever reaches zero, our universe is doomed! Total global destruction!”_

“Stan...” I said, voice wavering.

Stan shifted over, reading the glowing words.

“Well. That’s ominous.” He stated, almost casually, before going back to the control panel.

“Ominous?! Stan! This is what I was talking about earlier!” My voice came out too high and shrill for my liking.

“So? It doesn’t change anything Carla.” Stan shrugged.

I gaped at him, momentarily lost for words.

“Total global destruction doesn’t change anything?” My mind was in complete disarray. “Stan, let’s just stop and think about thi-”

“No. I’ve come this far without thinking. I’m not stopping now.”

I was stung by that. As if I hadn’t spent as much time as Stan had down here, slaving away until equations were nothing but blurs in front of my eyes.

“You can’t just ignore this Stan.” I tried again, anger slowly boiling in my gut.

“Yes I can. Ford was in a hella ova state back then, you didn’t see him. These could just be more insane ramblings like the ones we locked away in the attic.”

I bit my tongue, still reluctant to let Stan know what Bill had showed me while I had been traipsing around Stan’s memories.

Stan turned his back on me.

“No one’s gonna stop me now. Not those government agents, not the kids, not even you. From this point on, you’re either with me, or you’re against me.”

I just stared, unable to comprehend his words. How on Earth was I supposed to respond to that?

Was Stan suggesting that I didn’t want to get Ford back? After all OUR work? Maybe Ford had been right all those years ago... maybe Stanley was just the selfish one...

I pushed those thoughts away with an aggravated growl and tried to speak as calmly as I could.

“Stan, I’ve always been on your side but this -”

“No buts, except yours upstairs if ya not gonna help me.” Stan dismissed.

I resisted the urge to throw a punch at the stubborn, wholly selfish idiot in front of me and tried to remember that only earlier that night, he’d been rescuing his family from an army of the undead without any consideration for his own safety.

But unable to get rid of that much anger in one go however, I crumpled up a sheet of spare paper and hurled it at the back of Stan’s head as hard as I could. It struck fast and Stan turned with a snarl on his face, only cooling down when he saw my equally pissed expression. We stared at each other in cold silence for a moment before I rolled my eyes with a shake of my head.

“Stanley, if this kills us and destroys the world, I’m going to haunt you in the afterlife. Forever.” I threatened darkly, turning back to the journals.

“Noted. Wanna kiss on it?” Stan asked, making an attempt at breaking the tension.

I snorted.

“I’m still mad. Ask me again after the world ends.” I tried to focus on the words in front of me as my anger slowly dissipated.

“You can bet on it baby.” Stan paused and I heard the squeak of the chair as Stan moved closer.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Jackass.” I retorted, only a slight bite to my words.

Stan took hold of my hand lightly.

“Ok, I’ll accept that. Thank you Carla.”

“For what?” I replied woodenly, but gently entwined my fingers through his, unable to resist. After all, I still loved the old jackass.

“For sticking with me all these years.”

“Huh, that all?” I tried my hardest not to smile, my mouth turning up in the corner in betrayal.

“And all the million other things ya do for me.” Stan continued, briefly kissing my shoulder. I sighed and caved, squeezing his hand before twisting and catching his mouth with mine. Stan froze, surprised, but not for long.

Breaking apart with a light gasp for air, I head butted him lightly.

“You might be a stubborn pain in the ass, but you’re MY stubborn pain in the ass Pines. Guess we’re in this together until we either get Ford back or the world goes boom in the process.” I whispered.

Stan chuckled quietly before  moving away to work at the control panels again after squeezing my hand reassuringly.

As we continued to work in silence, I found I couldn’t quiet the unsettled whispering in my head.

Now that we had the final pieces of the puzzle, we actually had a finish line in sight. And with a finish line in sight, I couldn’t help but worry about what might happen when the portal became fully operational...

Would Ford come back? Would Bill break through into our universe? Would the world end? Should I have told Stan about Bill revealing that Ford was still alive? What if the portal didn’t work at all and we’d wasted 30 years down in this basement? Could Mabel and Dipper forgive us for not telling them about Ford?

I sighed.

Only time would tell now.


	20. August 2012 - Passion or Obsession?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stan may have a slight complex about Ford and Carla finally snaps... not gonna lie. Had a BLAST writing this!

August 2012

 

I glanced up from my cards as the door slammed **yet** again.

“Yeesh. What’re they up too?” Stan grumbled, lifting his hand to scratch his jaw absently.

I shrugged, noticing the two extra aces tucked haphazardly up his sleeve.

“No doubt we’ll find out soon,” I replied casually, eyeing my hand of three aces and two tens, “they always tell us. Or in Mabel’s case, scream it at us.”

“Grenda! Get the glue gun! We’re making dresses!” Mabel yelled as she ran into the kitchen. “Grauntie Carla! Where are those old-timey costumes we found?”

“In the storage room. Why?” I asked as Stan revealed his diamond royal flush, containing the ace of diamonds which also happened to be in my hand.

“We’re going to the greatest, most amazing, most awesome party of all time at the Northwest Manor! Eeeeek!” Mabel ended in a pitch only dogs could hear.

Stan winced, covering his bad ear.

“Geez kid, calm down. Ya need a lift?”

“No thanks Grunkle Stan. We have Pacifica’s limo. Is it ok if I just take the whole box of costumes?”

“Sure hon.” I smiled as I turned my card hand over, Stan grinning guiltily as he spotted my ace of diamonds.

“You guys are the greatest! Thank you, Thank You, THANK YOU!” Mabel scampered from the room excitedly.

“Reckon we should be worried?” Stan asked as I swept the cards back into a pile and began to shuffle.

“Probably not,” I reached over and pulled the extra aces from Stan’s sleeve, “after all, it’s just a party. At the Northwest Manor of all places. What could happen?”

“Famous last words.” Stan muttered as Dipper stuck his head into the kitchen.

“We’re going now. Pacifica said her driver would drop us off later, so you don’t need to stay up.”

“Ok, we’ll leave the door unlocked.” I placed the cards down on the table and turned to face Dipper. “Have fun sweetheart.”

Dipper rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, fun. Helping the Northwest’s. It’ll be a riot.” He scoffed as Mabel grabbed his arm.

“Come ON Dipper! See you later Grauntie Carla, Grunkle Stan, BYEEE!”

The door slammed again, hopefully for the last time.

I sighed and turned back to Stan, only to find him cheating.

“Really? Marking cards with chocolate?” I smiled.

Stan just grinned, caught red-handed. I shook my head and grabbed a card from his hand, examining the back carefully. It didn’t look like Stan was using just chocolate... With a certain amount of trepidation, I licked the card quickly.

“Is- is that toothpaste?” I asked, pulling a face before gulping down a mouthful of coffee.

“I think Mabel marked these cards first, clever girl.” Stan chuckled.

“So we need new cards huh?” I leaned across the table and lifted Stan’s fez from his head, a whole deck of cards fluttering down to the table.

“You win?” Stan offer with a heart melting smile as I leaned back with a raised eyebrow.

Unable to be mad at his cheating, I stood and crossed to his side before leaning down to plant a kiss on his lips.

Stan hummed and pulled me onto his lap easily, the kiss quickly turning hungry. Gripping his shoulders tightly, I gasped as his mouth trailed along my jaw to suck lightly at the hollow beneath my ear.

“Wh-what brought this, _ah_ , on?” I stammered out as Stan’s warm hand kneaded my thigh gently as I clung to him.

“Kids are gone for the night. We have the whole house to ourselves...” Stan murmured lowly against my neck, “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

I grinned, reaching up to run a hand through Stan’s hair.

“I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee while you get started downstairs.”

Stan held me tightly as he roared with sudden laughter.

“Carla, ya know me too well!”

I giggled and slid from his lap as we stood, walking over to the coffee maker.

“Comes from too many years experience.” I retorted.

“Hope it never changes baby.” Stan’s wide hands circled my hips as he planted a kiss on the top of my head. “Hope it never changes.”

“Go on you old softie. Downstairs. I’ll join you soon.”

Stan pressed his cheek against my hair with a content huff.

“Don’t keep me waiting gorgeous.” He purred, hand gliding down to pat my ass playfully. I swatted him away with a fond, yet exasperated, grin.

“Down boy. Literally. Downstairs.”

Stan chuckled.

“Alright baby.”

 

X

 

Setting down the tray holding the coffee, cups, sugar and snacks on the desk, I wandered over to the door and looked through.

Stan had already shucked off his jacket and dress shirt, kneeling by the portal and fiddling with the inner wiring. There was a sudden spark and Stan smacked his head against the portal, shaking his arm furiously.

“Ah, shit! Fuck me, that hurt!” He cursed.

“Coffee sweetheart!” I called, Stan startling at the noise of my voice. Getting to his feet, he kicked the side of the portal almost out of habit before walking toward me.

I headed back into the control room and began to pour our coffee.

Stan plonked himself down into the chair just as I stirred three sugars into his mug.

“Thanks baby.” Stan sighed, accepting the mug I held out.

“How’s your arm?” I asked, sitting opposite him with my own coffee.

“Eh. It’s fine. Just another burn.”

“Goes with your hand.” I looked pointedly at Stan’s still wrapped hand.

Stan chuckled, extending and flexing his hand experimentally.

“It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“You should be more careful.” I fussed uselessly.

“Yeah, yeah. You worry too much baby.” Stan placed his mug down and gave me a rakish grin. “Just like with the codes and junk in the journal.”

I took a sip of my coffee as Stan brought up that particular subject.

We’d had an unspoken agreement ever since the night of the undead karaoke incident, not to discuss my growing worry over the portal. It always turned into a screaming match that ended with us working in annoyed silence at opposite ends of the room.

I really didn’t want to repeat it. The quicker we worked, the sooner we could get Ford home... or blow up the world. Either way, my worries would be over.

Making sure to keep my face blank, I refused to take Stan’s bait.

“Wanting you to be careful is not worrying too much. It’s a natural response to danger. And that portal, even unpowered, is dangerous.”

Stan dismissed my words with an easy wave of his hand.

“Po-tay-to, pah-ta-to. My point is, ya don’t need to be so paranoid ab-”

“Paranoid?” I repeated slowly, looking down at my coffee as I felt my careful facade beginning to crumble.

“No, not that – that was the wrong word to-”

“No, I don’t think it wasn’t. You really believe I’m being paranoid about something that could end the world.” I calmly and coolly placed my mug down on the desk with a long look at Stan.

Stan opened and closed his mouth several times before letting out a long whistling breath.

 “Well, yeah. Ya never let up about how dangerous it is. Like I **don’t** know how dangerous it is-”

“Do you?” I interrupted, “Because I don’t hear you saying it.”

“Because I’m not focused on the danger Carla. I’m focused on getting Ford home.”

“Oh, of course. Because Ford is more important than anyone else in this world.” I muttered, sounding more bitter than I had intended.

“Holy Moses Carla. This again?” Stan rolled his eyes and glared at me, “What is your problem?”

“This.” I gestured around us, temper rising, “This and your apparent inability to see how dangerous it is, or to even stop and think about something other than Ford for five goddamn minutes!”

“I just said I know how dangerous it is!”

“The why are we still working on it? Why are we risking our lives, and the kids, to possibly save Ford?”

That’s what it’s always been about Carla!” Stan stood, kicking his chair away. “You know that!”

“I’m only saying that we have no idea how much damage this portal could cause when it starts up! We need to stop and think about what we’re doing here!” I stood, voice rising, “We don’t know what’s going to happen!

“So we just leave Ford out there? Abandon him?!” Stan yelled, hands clenching into fists.

“He abandoned you!” I planted my hands on my hips, temper finally flaring. “He turned his back on you! He didn’t care what happened to you! And yet you’ve devoted your life to him!”

“Why does that bother you so fucking much?!” Stan snarled.

 “Ford never deserved it!” I yelled, “He never deserved you!”

“Never deserved me? Ford never deserved me? I NEVER DESERVED HIM!” Stan roared.

Silence fell.

The tension thick in the air as Stan and I faced off, heaving and panting heavily as we caught our breath.

“But you deserved me? Is that how little you think of me?” I asked, voice dangerously low and calm.

Stan startled slightly and I took advantage of his stunned silence.

“30 years. I’ve spent 30 years helping you with this- this- NONSENSE! I’ve stuck by your side through every problem, every mistake, every creature that’s attacked us, every crime committed and bailed your ass out every time you pissed off the cops! Ford has put us through hell trying to fix HIS mistake! I have every right to be angry at him now, and I’m even angrier at you!”

Stan just stared as I raged.

“For the last few weeks Stanley, you have ignored my concerns and refused to listen to me, only thinking about Ford. Well you know what? Fuck Ford. I don’t care if we ever get him back! He can stay lost out there for the rest of goddamn eternity!”

“Shut up! Just... SHUT UP!” Stan yelled.

“Why?! Are you suddenly listening to me?!” I was starting to shake from the anger. “Now? When I start to insult your oh so precious Ford?!”

“Don’t, just don’t Carla...” Stan warned, body tensing. But I was passed caring.

“Am I not enough for you?” I shouted, blood boiling.

“No.”

That single world felt like a slap across my face.

I froze, blood rushing in my ears and heart pounding.

“That – that _hurt_ you son of a bitch,” I spat, anger running hot in my veins, “but fine. Absolutely fine. Because if that’s how you feel Stanley, I’m done. You’re on your own. I’m leaving.”

I turned on my heel, hands clenching tightly as I stalked away from Stanley.

 

I stormed out from behind the vending machine, slamming it shut with a frustrated yell. The wall shuddered, a candy bar falling inside the machine with a thud. I was shaking violently from the surging adrenaline of our argument.

Pacing around the dark gift shop, I took several  harsh, deep breaths as I willed the red rage to fade.

Glancing over my shoulder at the vending machine, I was aware that Stan could still be watching me through the security cameras.

“Fuck that.” I hissed through clenched teeth as I stared defiantly up at where the security camera was.

“If you know what’s good for you Stanley Pines, you’ll stay down in the damn basement!” I yelled, not caring who could hear me.

Kicking the vending machine viciously for good measure, I left the gift shop on still shaking legs.

I made it as far as the kitchen before the adrenaline wore off.

Leaning heavily against the kitchen table, I squeezed my eyes shut as I thumped my hand on against the rough surface.

“Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!”

It wasn’t enough. I lashed out at the table leg, a sharp pain lancing up my leg.

Ow! Fuck!” I twisted my face up. “God-fucking-dammit! Why? Why’d you do it?! Why’d you say it?!”

I pushed away from the table, body still thrumming with 30 years of pent up anger.

Spotting mugs drying on the counter, I grabbed two of them and threw them down on the ground as hard as I could with a scream.

The mugs shattered, pieces flying across the floor. Still not satisfied, I smashed another three mugs until I was aware of angry tears running down my face.

“Fuck you Stanley Pines.”

I stomped hard on any piece of mug still bigger than a quarter, crushing the mugs beneath my feet.

Only when I was surrounded by tiny shards, did I pause for breath.

I stared at the destruction in front of me as hot tears streamed down my face, my anger melting into something much more hollowing.

“I can’t do this anymore.” I whispered into the dark kitchen, the words causing a wracked sob to claw its way out of my throat. And once one escaped, more followed and I was unable to stop them.

Doubling over on myself, I let out a silent scream, wrapping my arms tightly around my stomach as if trying to hold everything together. I sank to the floor, tears redoubling their efforts as I rocked back and forth against the table leg.

“I can’t. I can’t keep this up. I can’t do this. So, so tired. I can’t do it anymore!”

My sobs echoed in the small kitchen, the sound of my heart breaking the only noise to be heard.

 

X

 

Sometime later (I wasn’t sure how long it had been), I was sitting at the table in the dark, sniffling weakly and still crying. I didn’t even know I had this many tears in me.

Pressing a damp and over-used piece of paper towel to my eyes once again, I threaded my fingers through my hair, tightening my grip in frustration at the whole situation we had found ourselves in.

“What are we gonna do Stan?” I sighed.

The kitchen light was flicked on and my eyes squeezed shut, the sudden light stinging them painfully. Releasing my hair, I forced my sore and tired eyes open to see Stan hovering in the door way.

I straightened, sniffing and wiping my nose before clearing my throat.

“What?”

“Er... you ok?” Stan asked sheepishly.

“What do you think?” I said, gesturing at the mug graveyard on the floor. Stan glanced around, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Can I, can I come in?”

I attempted to find a patch of dry paper towel as I nodded, dabbing at my watery eyes again. Stan slowly and cautiously entered the room, his shoes crunching over the broken shards of ceramic. He grabbed the roll of paper towels before sitting opposite me at the table. Without a word, Stan ripped off a new sheet and passed it across to me.

“Thank you.” I mumbled, taking the sheet from him.

“Ya welcome.” Stan fiddled with the roll of paper in his hands, not quite looking at me. I blew my nose and glanced at Stan with sad, puffy eyes.

“Stan, I’m so sorry-”

“I’m sorry baby-”

A weak giggle passed my lips.

“Why do we always do that?” I asked with a sigh.

“Because we’re too damn similar.” Stan smiled softly. We shared a sad look before falling silent again.

Stan cleared his throat nervously.

“Ya- ya not actually leaving, are ya?” He asked, voice wavering slightly.

I shook my head.

Stan let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank god. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without ya Carla.”

I stayed quiet, tears starting all over again.

“Aw, come on Carla. Don’t cry. I’m sorry about what I said, about ya not being enough for me.” Stan said gruffly, his voice catching in his throat, “You’re my everything. You’re the one thing in this world that matters most to me. Ya the best goddamn thing I’ve ever had in my life!”

Such sweet words after hours of regret caused me to sob again.

“Just talk to me, please?” Stan reached across the table for my hand and I pressed the paper towel to my eyes as I gripped his hand tightly.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, voice hoarse, “I’m sorry about what I said. I do want Ford back, I really do. I’m just,” I paused, sighing heavily, “I’m just so tired Stan. I’m tired of the secrecy, the weirdness, the lies... It’s been 30 years. I just can’t do it anymore.”

Stan squeezed my hand and I looked at him. Stan looked uncomfortable, not at home with  emotional outbursts, and not sure of how to respond.

“Ya- you coulda just told me.” He said eventually. I laughed weakly.

“I’ve been trying to, you daft old codger. You weren’t listening.” I teased, balling the paper towel up and pressing it under my nose with a sniffle.

Stan pushed his glasses up and rubbed his face tiredly with his free hand.

“Ya know that goes both ways right? You’ve been so busy bitching and worrying, ya haven’t stopped to consider that I might actually know what I’m doing.”

I felt a stab of guilt. Stan was right of course. I hadn’t been very fair lately

“Do you?” I asked genuinely, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I might not be Ford’s level of genius, god knows I’m not the smartest, but I wouldn’t do anything that might hurt you, or those kids. Ya know that.”

“I do,” I sighed before repeating it more firmly, “I do know that. It’s just, god, I’m – I’m just scared.”

“I know baby, I know.” Stan tightened his grip on my hand, his thumb swiping over my knuckles. “I’m scared too.”

“You are?” I asked, tears finally stopping.

“Are ya kidding?! I’m fucking terrified!” Stan exclaimed, “I’ve read those journals too, I SAW Ford vanish into that portal... the look on his face, it didn’t exactly scream he was in for a good time.”

“How can you stand it? That fear? Not knowing what’s going to happen, not knowing if it’ll even work?”

“I just crush it back down inside and refuse to talk about it.” Stan, one of nature’s natural emotion bottlers, shrugged. “Never was good at admitting weakness.”

I stayed quiet, thinking about the things I’d refused to talk to Stan about recently.

“Carla? Baby?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.” I said quietly, eyes dropping to stare at the table’s surface.

“What?”

I took a deep breath and forced myself to look up at Stan as I pulled my hand away from his reluctantly.

“Ford’s alive.” I said shakily.

There was silence as Stan just stared at me, slack-jawed.

“Wh-what, how do ya- what do you mean?”

“I mean, he’s still alive, wherever he is.”

“How, I mean, how do ya know?” Stan was struggling  to comprehend my words.

“Remember when me and the kids were in your head? I saw him then.”

“But ya said it was just memories.”

I made a noise of frustration.

“No, it wasn’t – remember we told you about Bill Cipher? I got tricked by him. He pretended to be Ford and tried to trick me by showing me some of your worst memories,”

“Which ones?” Stan interrupted, eyes wide and fidgeting.

The night you pushed Thistle’s van into the ravine, and a dingy motel while you were, ah,” I tried to think of the most delicate way to describe it, but Stan cut me off.

“Turning tricks?”

I grimaced, but nodded.

“Yeah. And he showed me the time you reconnected with Ford... I saw how paranoid he was Stan! That’s why I got so scared.” I continued with a shiver.

“What’s that gotta do with Ford being alive?”

“Once I knew Bill had tricked me, I called him out, told him to go to hell and tried to threaten him, you’d have been so proud of me.” I smiled faintly, “I think it got to him, so he lashed out. There was this strange blackness behind an unmarked door and Bill pushed me into it,” My breathing hitched, throat constricting at the memory, “I was surrounded by it, couldn’t move.. God, I couldn’t, couldn’t move or, or breathe-” I sucked in a shaking breath, blinking rapidly as my vision swam slightly, “Couldn’t even breathe...” I felt frozen, that suffocating feeling still very fresh and vivid in my mind.

Stan grabbed my hands, squeezing hard.

The contact immediately grounded me, gave my something to focus on, the rough calluses familiar under my fingertips. My breathing slowly returned to normal.

Taking a deep breath, I continued with my revelation.

“Wh-w-When I could finally see again, I-I, it’s hard to explain, but I was seeing through Ford’s eyes. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it’s true! I could hear him talking to himself, I saw his hands, it was Ford. And he was being chased.”

Stan’s hands tightened around mine to the point of being painful.

“He tripped and this creature caught up to him. It had these reflective, silvery eyes, and I could see Ford’s face. He was old, like us. I think I really was seeing him as he is right now.”

“What happened?” Stan asked, voice tight and low.

“What?”

“You said a creature caught Ford. What happened next? Was he hurt?” Stan looked frantic.

“Ford just, shot it. He hardly panicked. He just shot it in the throat without flinching. When the corpse landed on him, I was thrown out of - out of wherever I was, and back into your head.” I paused, biting my lip. “I don’t know if it was Bill just trying to just get me back or if it was something else more metaphysical... but it felt real.”

“So he really could be alive?” Stan breathed, eyes shining. I nodded with a soft smile.

“Yes.”

“So,” Stan cocked his head at me, “ why’d ya suddenly have a problem with the portal if ya knew Ford was alive?”

“Because I was scared. I’d seen the danger Ford was in, I’d seen what Bill could do, he attacked the kids! And then reading the hidden messages and warnings in the journal... I panicked, I’m sorry...”

“Aw baby.” Stan stood and was by my side in seconds. “Ya shoulda told me back then, I’d have understood. I don’t want ya to go through stuff like that alone. I know what it’s like ta be that scared.”

I gulped pathetically as his arms wrapped around me, pressing my face against his stomach as tears threatened to fall again. But Stan wasn’t finished.

“Baby, Ford **is** important to me, but not as important as you. Ya the woman I love, the only woman I’ve loved... if anything ever happened to ya...”

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears slipping out regardless.

“Ya know I love ya, right?” Stan asked quietly. I nodded against him, wrapping my own arms around his sides.

“Then ya know ya don’t have to hide anything from me. But ya might just have to hit me round the head until I listen. I am an old knucklehead after all.”

I choked out a laugh, muffled by Stan’s bulk against me, Stan’s hand stroking my hair lightly.

“You never cease to amaze me.” I leaned back and gave him a watery grin.

“Yeah? Well, I’m gonna do it again.” Stan grunted as he sank to his knees, arms staying linked around me with some difficulty.

“Carla, we’ve spent 30 years fixing that damn portal, but, if ya want me to stop...” Stan took a deep breath, “All ya gotta do is ask.”

I stared, mouth hanging open.

Stan couldn’t be serious!

How could he just throw away all that hard work? The chance to get Ford back! Everything we’d worked toward!

All if I just asked him too... he’d give up everything, for me...

“Stan...” I breathed, cupping his cheek gently.

Stan looked up at me, eyes remorseful and shoulders slumped over, waiting for my next words with baited breath.

“You dare stop working on that portal, and I really will leave you.” I said lightly.

Stan was thrown, confusion immediately clouding his eyes.

“What?” he asked, searching my face desperately.

“We’re not stopping now. We’ve come so close!”

“I’m getting mixed signals here Carla.” Stan frowned, and I patted his cheek apologetically.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I got scared and lashed out. But to sacrifice all our hard work? Not a chance. Ford needs us. We can’t just stop.”

“Ya sure baby?” Stan asked, squeezing my sides gently.

He didn’t really need to ask the question, we both knew we’d come too far to quit. But to hear him offer not once, but twice...

“Yes. I’m sure, as long as I’m with you.”

“Ya too good for me baby.” Stan said as he stood.

“I think after everything I’ve put you through in our lives, we’re about even now.” I glanced down and spotted the flecks of broken mug on Stan’s knees. “Shit! Stan! What were you thinking? Your knees!” I fussed, flapping my hands at him, checking to see if there was any cuts or blood. Stan looked down and shrugged.

“It’s fine. Though ya really did a number on those mugs.” He grabbed the broom and began to sweep up the mess left by my destructive temper tornado.

“You don’t have to do that Stan. I made the mess, I’ll tidy it up.” I started to stand, but Stan gently forced me back down.

“And I’m the reason ya smashed those mugs. **I’ll** tidy it.”

Once Stan was certain I wasn’t going to move, he returned to sweeping as he talked to me.

“I don’t do enough for ya. Ya deserve so much more than an old grifter and knucklehead like me.”

“Stop that.” I sighed, “I don’t care about what you think I deserve. I’ve only ever wanted you. I don’t care about anything else. I don’t **need** anything else, and I don’t need you to do all this extra stuff to prove anything to me.”

I watched as Stan swept the kitchen quickly, dumping the shards into the trash before looking at me.

“So, what do ya need then?” He asked.

“For you to promise me that when things get crazy, we won’t push each other away again,” I paused, “and maybe a hug.”

“I think I can do that.” Stan grinned lopsidedly and opened his arms. “Come here baby.”

Rushing over eagerly, I practically threw myself into his arms, Stan letting out a quiet ‘oof’ as we swayed slightly.

“I love you.” I mumbled into Stan’s chest as his arms cradled me close. “I’m sorry I threatened to leave. I’d never leave you. Never. Never ever again.”

“Aw forget it. Ya here, I’m here, no one’s leaving anyone.” Stan reassured, lifting my hands around his neck. “Now hold tight.”

“What?” I looked up in confusion before squawking as Stan hoisted me off the ground and leaving the kitchen.

“Stan! What are y-”

“It’s late, ya tired, time to relax.” Stan huffed as we entered the front room. “God, this was easier when you were younger.”

Before I could reply, Stan sat heavily in the recliner, keeping me on his lap.

Reaching back behind him, Stan tugged the old blanket over and threw it over me before pulling the side lever and pushing the chair back.

I squeaked as we shifted, Stan pulling me down with him and shuffling to get comfortable.

“I’m gonna squash you.” I complained, spreading the blanket over both of us properly.

“Ya not that fat Carla.” Stan winced as I accidently elbowed his ribs while I moved to lie tucked against his side.

“That fat?” I echoed, rising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah. We’ve both got fat.” Stan gestured at his stomach. I laughed and patted his gut gently.

“Some more than the rest of us.” I teased.

“Oh yeah?” Stan dared, “Guess who’s more ticklish than the rest of us?”

“Stan, no...” I warned as Stan raised a hand in threat.

“Can’t hear you, I’m a deaf old man!” Stan started to run his fingers along my sides.

I yelped and squirmed, swatting at him as the recliner creaked alarmingly under us.

“Stan! Stop!” I gasped out, Stan clutching me close with a low chuckle.

I snuggled under his arm, body moulding against his, just as it had done for the last 30 years.

As I rested my arm across his middle, Stan sighed and patted my arm.

“Relax Carla, I got ya.” He murmured as our breathing began to slow.

“You’re so warm, ‘sgood for cuddling.” I yawned, nuzzling into his side gratefully.

I could feel any tension left in my body start to melt away as Stan ran his fingers up and down my shoulder.

My eyes were starting to grow heavy, but I still lifted my arm and clasped Stan’s hand.

We slowly dozed off, fingers entwined and ready to take on whatever the world threw at us next...

 

X

 

... Which happened to be the twins sometime later.

Stan and I woke with a start as two extra people climbed up onto the recliner.

“Hey you two.” My voice was scratchy and hoarse from the shouting and crying, but hopefully it just sounded sleepy. “How was the party?”

“Things got a little weird.” Dipper shuddered, climbing under the blanket next to me. “Ghostly weird.”

“Thought ya liked ghosts kid.” Stan shifted as Mabel squeezed in between Stan and I.

“Not this one Grunkle Stan.” She yawned, and Stan pulled the fascinator off her head before it could hit him in the face.

“But Pacifica saved us. She saved everyone.” Dipper mumbled sleepily as I reached back to pat his cheek.

“Told you she wa-wasn’t that bad.” Mabel slurred as she started to fall asleep.

“Sweet dreams you two.” I said quietly as the twins drifted off to sleep.

“Yeah. G’night ya gremlins.” Stan muttered, closing his eyes again. I soon followed suit, happy to fall asleep nestled alongside the rest of my family.

Mabel snuggled closer to me, her hair tickling my nose slightly.

My heart and throat tightened at the thought of something awful happening to her or Dipper.

I had to trust Stan. Surely he had meant it when he said he wouldn’t let anything dangerous happen to us.

But the portal was proving to be unpredictable.

What if something went wrong? What if Bill-

No.

It was all going to be fine.

.

.

.

Right?


	21. August 2012 - An Old Friend Comes Home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really apprehensive about writing this chapter and honestly, almost didn't get it written in time :/  
> Hopefully I've done this particular moment of the series justice.

August 2012

 

Standing by the blinking console panel, I watched anxiously as Stan heaved the last barrel of nuclear waste over and began to pour it into the fuel input tube.

“Stan...” my voice wavered nervously as I watched the gauge. It didn’t seem to be moving at all in the cold, pulsing blue light illuminating the whole basement.

“Come on, come on. Should be just enough to finish the job.” Stan muttered to himself, almost coaxing the machine to work with him as he wiped his forehead.

We both jumped as a buzzer sounded and the gauge flashed a green light.

“It’s working?” I asked in shock, completely convinced we were going to blow up half the town.

“It’s working.” Stan grinned as above our heads, the screens lit up with large letters _“Event Initialised”_ and an 18 hour countdown.

I stared at the clock.

18 hours? Until what?

Ford’s homecoming? Or worse... Global destruction.

I tried not to let my apprehension show. I’d felt slightly better about working down here after finally telling Stan everything, but I couldn’t shake the feeling we were asking for trouble now the portal was working properly.

Stan was back at the control panel, adjusting the controls according to the decoded blueprints.

“Right, let’s see... “Warning”, blah blah blah, “extreme usage could result in minor gravity anomalies”, Can it Poindexter!” Stan shoved the journal closed and faced the portal excitedly.

I, on the other hand, was less than excited. What exactly **was** a minor gravity anomaly?

“We’ve come this far. We’re not giving up now!” Stan glanced at me, smiling reassuringly as he reached for my hand. I swallowed my fear and took his hand.

I trusted Stan.

If he thought this was going to work, I was in it with him.

“Right. Not giving up.” I heard myself say. Stan flicked the cover off the power button and slammed a fist down on it.

With a torturous whine, the portal began to light up and the ground rumbled as the gigantic structure came to life.

I gripped Stan’s hand tighter, fear returning massively as the centre of the portal began to spin with a mechanical purr, lights blurring around the edge. For the first time in 30 years, it finally sunk in that we’d been building a literal portal. It had never looked so futuristic. Or terrifying.

“Yes! This is it baby!” Stan crowed beside me.

I squeaked in response as I suddenly felt my feet leaving the ground. Stan reacted quickly, pulling me closer and tightening his grip on me as we hovered in the air surrounded by papers, tools and old coffee mugs.

“I guess this is one of those minor gravity anomalies.” I muttered, hoping Dipper and Mabel weren’t being affected by this.

 We floated back down, stumbling slightly as gravity returned to normal.

“It’s gonna be a bumpy ride, but it’ll all be worth it.” Stan reassured, strapping a miniature version of the countdown on his wrist and synchronising it.

“I guess. Just hope gravity doesn’t get too crazy.”

It didn’t seem like Stan was listening anymore.

“Just eighteen more hours. Finally, everything changes. Today.”

I wasn’t as happy.

Would it be changing for better or for worse?

Only the next eighteen hours would tell... or the next seventeen hours and fifty-four minutes and counting.

 

X

 

After all the morning’s excitement with the fireworks, I was happy to take a break and step into the cool kitchen and get a drink.

It seemed my fears about the gravity anomalies getting worse was unfounded. Despite the initial one, the rest of the day had proceeded like normal (or as normal as normal could be in this town) and I was even starting to feel excited by the prospect of seeing Ford come home. It really had been too long since I’d seen him and, since one of us had been in another dimension, I was eager to make up for the lost time. Maybe Stan had been right, the danger was greatly over exaggerated.

I snorted to myself, that would be a first.

But for once, Stan’s stupid optimism and frustrating pigheadedness seemed to have paid off.

Grabbing the two soda’s from the fridge, I walked back outside to join Stan on the couch as Mabel and Dipper continued to wage war on each other with water balloons.

“Thanks baby.” Stan grinned, his happiness contagious as he took the open can from me.

“I got to hand it to you Stan, this may end up being a perfect day.” I hinted, as Dipper attempted to throw a balloon at Mabel, only to fail and get smacked in the face by Mabel’s water balloon. Mabel ran after Dipper, screeching and waving her popsicle like a weapon.

“Ah.” Stan took a swig of the soda. “This is what Saturdays are for. Doing dumb things forever.”

I had to agree with him there.

“DOING DUMB THINGS FOREVER!” Dipper and Mabel jumped into a giant pile of water balloons, which exploded into a wave of water.

Stan and I yelped and laughed as we were caught by some of the splash, giddy on what we seemed to be pulling off today.

Mabel extended her popsicle toward us in a mock toast.

“To Grunkle Stan and Grauntie Carla! Not just great...”

“The GREATEST!” Dipper joined in, both of them suddenly tossing two water-filled balloons at us.

I ducked with a giggle as Stan flailed slightly to avoid being hit as he laughed heartily.

“Alright, alright. I’m telling ya, it’s unnatural for siblings to get along as well as you do.”

I smiled fondly, patting his arm. I knew another set of twins who’d been the same at that age...

“Ha-ha! Don’t worry. We’ve still got plenty of summer left to drive each other crazy!” Mabel tackled her brother into a bear hug. Dipper used a massive water balloon to push Mabel away, the balloon popping on Mabel’s face.

I laughed, glancing at Stan, who had gone very quiet with a worrying expression his face.

“Yeah, plenty of summer left...” He looked at his wrist where the timer was hidden under his sleeve and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. I frowned slightly.

Was Stan worried about something? Why hadn’t he told me? Everything was ok, wasn’t it?

Mabel and Dipper approached us, still snacking on the popsicles.

“Kids, there’s something we, uh, something I should tell you. It’s, um,” Stan hesitated, scratching his chin as Mabel and Dipper gazed at him. I realised I was holding my breath as I caught the meaning behind Stan’s words.

Would telling them the truth now be a good idea? Would they even understand?

“Um, well, it’s complicated. I... I’m gonna refresh my soda!” Stan suddenly changed tack and stood, walking around the corner of the house. I stared after him, considering going after him when Dipper coughed to get my attention.

“Um, Grauntie Carla? What was that about?”

“I...” I hesitated. This wasn’t really my secret to share alone. “I don’t know Dipper. But I’m sure Stan will tell us.”

“You _really_ don’t know Grauntie Carla?” Mabel hopped up next to me. “You always know what Stan’s doing, or when he’s been arrested. Wouldn’t you know his secret’s too?”

Damn.

The sweet girl had me.

I opened my mouth to lie when a sudden shout stopped me.

That was Stan!

Oh god! What happened? The portal?!

“What the-!” Dipper and Mabel took off at a run around the house, me not far behind them.

What we found shocked me to the core.

The shack was surrounded by military and government vehicles, two helicopters hovering over head as a group of agents wrestled Stan over to a car.

“Ugh! Hey, hands off, you stooge!” Stan struggled as his head was forced down onto the car. “Aah! I don’t understand! What did I do that warrants _this_ much arresting?!”

“Stan!” I momentarily forgot about the kids, panic setting in as I ran to where Stan was being handcuffed. “Get off him! What’s the meaning of this?” I protested, tugging uselessly at the officer’s arms.

“Please ma’am. Don’t get in our way.” They intoned flatly, brushing me off. I bristled.

“That’s my husband and I demand to know what’s going on! Why is he being arrested?” I placed my hands on my hips and glared at them.

“The government guys?” Dipper gasped. “I thought you got eaten by zombies?” I turned to find Agents Power and Trigger approaching.

“We survived, barely.” Agent Trigger looked across at me and whispered something into his wrist as Powers held up a digital tablet.

“This is security footage of a governemt waste facility.” He informed us, the screen playing the security footage. “At oh four hundred hours last night, someone robbed three hundred gallons of dangerous waste.”

“What?! You think that I did it?” Stan was doing a good job, still struggling with the agents pinning him down.

“Don’t play dumb with us, Pines!” Powers barked.

“But I actually _am_ dumb!” Stan protested as the agents finally succeeded in leading him toward a waiting patrol car. “Last night I was stocking the gift shop. I swear!”

“He really was! I can prove it!” I added, not noticing the agent approaching me from behind. But Stan did.

“Hey! Don’t touch her! She’s nothing to do with whatever this is! Carla!”

I realised a second too late and felt a set of hands grab my wrists, forcing them behind me.

“Hey! What is this?!” I yelled, glaring at agent Powers. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“We’ll see Miss McCorkle, we’ll see.” Powers said slowly, my blood going cold. How, how had they found that out?

In my shock, I numbly felt the cold metal of the handcuffs tightening around my wrists.

“Wait, what?” Dipper looked hopelessly confused, Mabel almost vibrating in her panic.

“Wait! You can’t! Grunkle Stan! Grauntie Carla! You’ve got the wrong people! Our Grunkle Stan might shop lift the occasional tangerine, but he’s not some evil super villain! And Grauntie Carla-”

“Listen kids,” Powers knelt in front of the twins as I was held still.

“We’ve been watching your family all summer and we’ve seen some disturbing things. But nothing as dangerous as what your uncle and auntie have been hiding. Somewhere in this shack is a doomsday device!” He stood and tossed the tablet at Trigger. “Trigger, you take the children. I’ll accompany our criminal couple.”

At his signal, I was roughly bundled into the car next to Stan, any fight gone and replaced by overwhelming dread about what was going to happen next.

“Sorry to break it to you kids,” Powers slid his darkened glasses over his eyes, “but you don’t know your auntie and uncle at all.”

Powers snapped his fingers and several agents crowded Mabel and Dipper.

“Hey! You leave them alone!” I shouted, fear for the twin’s safety lancing through me. I could handle being arrested, living with Stan had prepared me for that eventuality, but I didn’t want those kids touched in anyway. “Mabel! Dipper!”

Powers slammed the car of the door, cutting off my shouts.

The twins looked at us, frightened and confused. Stan leaned across and thumped his hands on the window of the car.

“Kids! You gotta believe us! For once I’m actually innocent!”

“Step on it agent.” Powers ordered, the car starting and beginning to pull away.

“Kids!” Stan and I yelled together, desperation clear as we were taken away.

 

They took us into Gravity Falls, heading for the local police station.

As the car came to a stop, Stan shuffled closer and managed to nudge his shoulder against mine.

I glanced at him, still feeling slightly numb.

“Whatever they ask ya Carla, lie.” Stan hissed, eyes wide. “Ya not gonna get dragged down in this with me. Do whatever ya got to to get out, even if it means letting me take the fall.”

“Stan!” I stared. “I can’t do that.”

“Ya gotta baby. We’ve only got a few hours left. Someone needs to get back to the shack. Lie Carla! Lie like ya’ve never lied before! I love you baby.” Stan whispered, leaning back as Powers and the other agent pulled us from the car.

“Miss McCorkle can wait in the second interrogation room with the local police.” Powers ordered. I saw Stan’s face pale at the use of my real name.

“Yes sir.” The agent tightened his grip on my arm and escorted me up and into the building.

“Wait, Stan! Stan!” I called out, trying to dig my heels in as the fear kicked in again.

“It’s alright Carla. It’s alright!” Stan reassured as I was tugged in the opposite direction to him.

I was vaguely aware of my tears starting, Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland looking uncomfortable by the interrogation room’s door.

“Kepp her in here until Agent Powers has talked to her.” The agent holding me passed me over to Blubs as the sheriff nodded nervously.

“Come on Mrs Pines. Let’s not make it worse.” He encouraged uselessly as he helped me sit at the table, Durland closing the door behind us.

I wanted to laugh through my tears.

Make it worse?

Stan was being interrogated by government officials, would probably end up locked up in a government facility for a lifetime (once they found the empty barrels of nuclear waste) and I had no idea where Dipper and Mabel were... Not to mention there was an unstable dimensional portal still counting down to possible global destruction under the town. How much worse could it get?!

Gaining a control on my tears, I swallowed hard and glanced at the nearby clock.

God, how long had it been since this morning? How long did we even have before the countdown ended? Stan still had the synchronized counter. I was clueless. What did I do next?

Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland sat opposite me, looking more nervous than I was.

“Now, Mrs Pines, we’re sure this is all some sort of  mix up but...” Blubs started. I stared at him unseeingly, trying to figure out my next move.

As it turned out, the portal decided my next move for me. There was a rumble and the room shook before we all floated off of the ground. Trying my best to stay centred while staying in my chair, I gritted my teeth and waited for the gravity anomaly to pass.

That was worse than this morning. Maybe we were close to the end now. Would they be getting stronger? And if they did, could we survive them?

I wished again that I knew where Stan and the twins were.

We all hit the ground again suddenly, my chair rocking but thankfully I stayed upright. Blubs and Durland did not.

“What was that?!” Durland asked hysterically from the ground.

“I don’t know!” Blubs replied in terror.

I rolled my eyes while they couldn’t see me. Deciding that Stan’s advice was the best approach, I started to sniff loudly and let my tears fall freely again.

As both police officers stood up, they saw my tears.

“Aw, now, now don’t cry Mrs Pines.” Blubs said. I sobbed harder, grateful for my years spent living with a professional conman who excelled in showmanship. This should be easy.

“I-I, - I’m, I’m s-sso so-sorry b-boys,” I hiccupped, “I-I’m just so scared and confused! I don’t understand any of it! The government took my husband away, we just floated in the air, and I don’t know where my niece and nephew are....” I let my voice waver and crack. “What am I g-go-going to tell their parents?!” I wailed.

Durland sniffed himself and held out his handkerchief to me. I gave him my best, brave old lady smile.

“Thank you young man, but I- I can’t...” I rattled my handcuffs for emphasis, allowing myself another sob.

“Oh lord! Just uncuff her Edwin.” Blubs caved first, “She’s clearly not a criminal!”

Durland rushed to unlock my hands and I gave him a thankful smile as I grasped his wrist gently.

“Bless you Edwin Durland. You are a sweetheart.”

Durland blushed.

“Would you like a cup of tea Mrs Pines?” the young man asked, patting my hand softly. I nodded gratefully.

“You’re  a dear.”

Handing me his hanky, Durland unlocked the door and hurried away. I made a great show of drying my eyes with little half sobs and deep breaths.

Sheriff Blubs tutted under his breath.

“What are those Government guys thinking? You couldn’t have possibly been involved in this craziness.” He leaned across and patted my hand as gently as Durland had.

I figured now was as good as any time to try and get out of here.

“Couldn’t you just let me go?” I asked, still pretending to wipe tears away. “I need to find my niece and nephew!”

Blubs shifted uncomfortably, glancing over my shoulder at the door.

“I can’t do that Mrs Pines. I want to, but these are Government Officials.” He whispered, almost seeming scared they’d be watching and listening to us. “But I suppose it wouldn’t harm for us to leave you in here alone. They just said you had to stay in here, you don’t need to be watched. I’ll even tell them that there was no way you were involved. How does that sound?”

“You’d do that for me?!” I asked, grabbing his hand tightly with a smile. “Oh Sheriff Blubs! How could I ever thank you?” I was a little worried about laying it on too thick, but Blubs had bought it.

“Aww, now don’t mention it.” Blubs dismissed with a smile.

Durland came back with a steaming cup of tea.

“Come on Durland. I think we can leave Mrs Pines in peace. Besides I have a surprise for you in the staff room.” He grabbed his partners arm as they both left the room, and perhaps, most importantly, left the door unlocked.

Relaxing slightly, I glanced at the clock again.

How long now?

 

I paced back and forth, growing more and more agitated, my tea forgotten and cold on the table. It had been over an hour. Every time I’d risked a peek out of the door, the police building had still been swarming with government agents.

The gravity anomalies had kept occurring at an increased pace and I was worried they were getting too strong.

We should never have reactivated that damn portal. Look where it had gotten us!

Just then, another anomaly hit. I swore as my shoes left the floor and I was left suspended several feet in the air.

I heard a sudden commotion outside my door and tried to swim uselessly toward it. As the anomaly passed, I hit the ground hard on all fours. Cursing, I rubbed my knees and hobbled to the door. Opening it slightly, I saw government agents streaming past, all heading out of the building.

Getting across to the window, I saw my Stanley ducking down behind an over turned car as the government agents chased after a speeding cab. Stanley caught his breath for a moment before taking off at a run down the streets.

Relief flooded me. He was ok! But at the speed he was running, we couldn’t have long. I needed to take my chance and get out of here, NOW.

Opening the door, I crept out into the hallway. I couldn’t see anyone. Good start.

I snuck past Blubs and Durland who had fallen through the door of the staff room with a piñata. Getting out onto the street, I followed after Stanley as fast I could.

 

X

 

Panting heavily, I hid behind the trees surrounding the Mystery Shack.

Leaning against a tree, I slid down and rested for a few moments.

I’d landed heavily after the last gravity anomaly... and pushing myself to get to the shack as fast as I could certainly hadn’t helped things. I wasn’t as young as I once had been.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself up and looked at the shack.

Suddenly there was a commotion as a car  pulled up at speed.

Agent Triggers leapt from the car.

“Stanford escaped! He’s at large! We need to sweep the town! Move! Move! Move!”

There was a flurry of activity and I ducked back under the wild scrub as agents ran past.

Once it was quiet again, I took another look at the shack.

There was still several agents covering the house.

Hoping like mad Stan had managed to get inside, I looked around for my best option. All that mattered now was getting down into the basement before the world went to hell.

A small scuffling near my foot made me glance down. A small, grey haired gnome was attempting to fight a pinecone.

I picked him up, careful to hold him by the scruff of his neck.

“Schmebulock!” The gnome grunted and tried to twist out of my grip.

“Shush.” I hissed and carefully snuck from tree to tree until I spotted Gompers secured near the back porch.

“Perfect.” I muttered, spotting the old cellar chute nearby.

“Schmebulock?” The gnome said.

“Yeah, yeah buddy. Schmebulock.” I replied out the corner of my mouth. I waited until the agents weren’t looking and quickly lobbed the gnome over to Gompers. In a flash, Gompers was pulling at his restraints. As the little gnome climbed unsteadily to his feet, Gompers gave a loud bleat and yanked himself free.

I watched as he ploughed after the gnome, causing the agents to scatter.

Making a break for it, I dashed across to the house, pulled the phoney padlock off the door and quickly slithered into the old cellar chute, managing to yank the doors closed behind me.

I slid down into the darkness, landing with a heavy thump in the original cellar.

My old bones groaned in protest as I hauled myself upright and and found the old wall panel that had been put up decades ago. Pushing it the side with another complaint from my body, I found myself staring at the elevator.

Listening carefully, I couldn’t hear anyone close to the gift shop and decided to push my luck further. Jumping into the elevator, I jabbed the button for going down

Slipping out into the basement at the bottom, I jammed a fallen piece of wood between the doors. That would at least keep it from going back up should anyone find the hidden passage way.

Summoning all my willpower, and praying my knees would make it a little longer, I charged off down toward the control room.

A blinding light struck my eyes and I gasped, flinging a hand up in front of me.

The portal!

_“T-minus thirty-five seconds.”_ The computer announced just before I could reach the door to the portal.  
I felt the ground begin to shake again, my feet beginning to leave the ground again.

Heart in my mouth, I grabbed for the table, only to miss by a inch. I was thrown up into the ceiling, a pained groan leaving my lips. Grabbing a nearby pipe, I clung to it desperately.

This was all wrong!

It was too late! There was no way to stop it now, not without being in serious danger! Where was Stan?!

“You gotta trust me!”

I started.

That was Stan’s voice! Who was he talking to?!

_“T-minus twenty seconds”_

The portal flashed, the light growing even brighter as it’s whirring increased in pitch.

A strong wind gusted over me, threatening my hold on the pipe. I gritted my teeth and reached out for the next handhold I could find, another old pipe. Hauling myself further forward with difficulty, I tried to make it to the door to the portal, where Stan’s voice had come from.

“Look into my eyes, Mabel! Do you really think I’m a bad guy?”

“He’s lying! Shut it down NOW!”

“Mabel, Please!”

My heart plummeted.

Mabel and Dipper where down here! Oh god! We’d endangered everyone!

_“Ten. Nine.”_

My hands caught the edge of the door lintel and I dragged myself closer, bracing one foot against the wall as best I could.

“Grunkle Stan...”

_“Six. Five.”_

“I trust you.”

I barely heard Dipper’s angry scream as I saw Mabel’s tiny frame outlined by the swirling horror of the portal.

“MABEL!” I screamed just as the world went white from the portal exploding.

Hearing their panicked screams, I redoubled my grip on the door.

I sure that this was the end, we were all going to die, Stan and I had failed, Mabel and Dipper were dead, the world could be burning, we never even got to say goodbye, Ford was never coming home, Stan, everything we’d worked for...

 

There was an agonising groan of tearing metal and I squeezed my eyes closed tighter.

Any second now, I was going to die, I knew it.

A massive shudder went through the basement, or whatever was left of it, and my hands on the door faltered slightly. Scrabbling, I fought to keep my grip.

But gravity had returned, and with it, I was helpless to prevent my fall to the floor..

I heard, rather than felt, my impact on the cold surface, my ankle crumpling under my weight. I bit back a cry and rolled. A shooting pain flared along my ankle and I whimpered, finally opening my eyes again.

It was dark.

Or maybe I had been blinded by the portal seconds before everything exploded? But... if everything had exploded, why was I still here? And where was here?

Feeling around, I found a wall and pushed myself up shakily.

Taking a tentative step, I bit my lip as the pain in my ankle threatened to overwhelm me, opting for an odd hop and limp along the wall. As I moved, my eyes adjusted and I found myself still in the basement.

Reaching the door again, I stared in shock at the destroyed portal.

Collapsed on its side, wires dangling and sparking, chunks of metal lying twisted on the ground, a dying blue glow at its centre... it hadn’t worked.

I felt my throat constrict, my breathing rapidly shallowing.

It hadn’t worked!

And we’d put everyone in danger!

Where were they?!

Limping forward, I stumbled through the door, desperate to find the twins and Stan.

My heart skipped a beat as I caught sight of Mabel and Dipper getting to their feet, Stan sprawled next to them. And Soos was with them! Everyone was alive and moving!

And, wait.

There was someone else, someone climbing down from the portal’s wreckage and heading toward Stan.

They paused, reaching for something on the ground.

“What...? Who _is_ that?” Dipper asked.

“The author of the journals...” Stan said from his position on the ground.

The stranger pulled a pair of goggles away from his face and I gasped.

It was Ford!

We’d done it! He was actually back!

“... my brother.” Stan finished as he climbed to his feet, Ford already staring at him.

I could hear Mabel talking, but my heart was pounding hard and the blood rushing past my ears was near deafening.

I just couldn’t believe it!

He was alive, and he was right here!

I didn’t know what to feel...

“Finally! After all these long years of waiting, you’re actually here! Brother!”

.... until Ford punched Stan.

Stan stumbled backwards as a red hot anger flooded me.

“Oh! Ow! What the heck was that for?!” Stan grumbled.

I started moving towards the brothers as fast as I could. Ford was clearly angry and looking ready to attack Stan. Like hell that was going to happen! Not while I was still standing!

“This was an insanely risky move; restarting the portal! Didn’t you read my warnings?!” Ford sounded far sterner, much angrier than I’d ever heard.

“Warnings, schmarnings. How’s about maybe, a thanks for saving you from what appears to be, I dunno, some kind of sci-fi sideburn dimension?”

Stan was always his most obnoxious when feeling attacked.

“Thank you? You really think I’m gonna _thank you_ after what you did THIRTY YEARS AGO?!”

Oh that was rich coming from _FORD!_

I barged past the Soos and the kids, ignoring their surprise at my presence, only focused on stopping the fight that I could see was about to start.

“What _I_ did? Why, you ungrateful-” Stan threw a punch that Ford ducked easily, grabbing Stan around the waist. Stan squirmed, years of not having to fight having dulled his reactions.

“Don’t expect me to go easy on you, just because you’re... fam-”

Just as Ford twisted Stan’s arm behind his back, I barrelled into both of them. All three of us hit the floor. Ford let go of Stan in all the commotion, only to grab me and pin me to the floor, a terrifying anger in his face that faded almost the instant he recognised me.

“Carla?” He asked, stunned. I took the advantage and jammed my elbow into his ribs, Ford rolling to the side, winded.

There was the patter of feet and Mabel stepped into my line of vision.

“Hey, hi. Mabel here. Quick question, WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?!” she yelled.

Ford jumped to his feet, Stan hurrying to help me up. I winced and leaned on his arm heavily as Ford scanned the room.

“Stan, you didn’t tell me there were children down here. Or that Carla was,” Ford cut himself off and stared at Soos. “Or some sort of large, hairless gopher?"

Soos laughed easily.

“Heh heh, I get that a lot.”

“They’re your family Poindexter. Shermie’s grandkids.” Stan snapped.

At that, I left his side, hobbling over to Mabel and Dipper and hugging them tightly.

“Thank god you’re alright! I had no idea where you were! You’re ok? No bruises, no bleeding? Everyone still have all their limbs?” I babbled as I frantically checked them over for injuries. Dipper pulled away from me first.

“No, but Grauntie Carla, did you kn-”

He was cut off by Soos wrapping his arms around all three of us and squeezing.

“I’m so glad you’re ok Mrs Pines.”

“Thank you Soos.” I patted his arm. “You can let go now.”

I hissed as he released us, my ankle threatening to give way again.

“Carla!” Stan rushed over, for once leaving Ford forgotten, and grabbing me tightly. “You ok?”

“That last anomaly kicked my butt. Hurt my ankle.” I tried to assure him, despite my claw-like grip on his arm. “Looks like it worked though.”

“Yeah.” Stan muttered darkly, both of us looking back at Ford. He was staring at us all, a stunned expression on his face.

“Yo-you’re married? And I, I have a niece and nephew?” Ford asked as Mabel approached him. Ford dropped to his knee and extended a hand.

“Greetings.” He shook Mabel’s hand. “Do kids still say greeting? I haven’t been in this dimension for a _really_ long time."

“Whoa, a six-fingered handshake? That’s like, a whole finger friendlier than normal!” Mabel was handling things in her own special way.

“Heha, I like this kid! She’s weird!”

Stan muttered something obscene under his breath and I nudged him tiredly. Maybe if the kids could work their magic, Ford wouldn’t get angry again for a little while longer.

I certainly couldn’t stop another fight. Ford was a lot bigger and stronger than I remembered him.

“I- I can’t believe it. You’re the author of the journals!” Dipper was pale and stunned.

“You’ve read my journals?”

“I haven’t just read them, I’ve _lived_ them! I’ve been waiting for so long to meet you, I- I don’t know what to say,” Dipper was pacing in circles, breathing heavily, “I have so many questions, I- Oooooohhh I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Mabel ran over and began patting her brother’s back as he heaved slightly.

“Hmmpf! No – no, false alarm. Hmmpf! Just gotta ride it out!”

Ford looked as perturbed as we were by Dipper’s dry heaving, but rallied himself quickly.

“You’ve endangered all of these people Stan.” He said crossly, gesturing toward me. “Look at Carla, she’s hurt, badly.”

I waved a hand weakly.

“I’m fine,” I tried to sound convincing as Stan looked at me, “really. I’m just not as young as I used to be. But I’m still standing.”

A wave of pain hit me again and I swayed slightly.

“Or maybe it would be a good idea if I sat down.” I muttered, Stan and Soos quickly helping me to rest against one of the broken metal craters that had powered the portal.

Stan winced guiltily as I hissed in pain. I shook my head at him.

“I’m fine Stan. It’s not life-threatening.”

“Ya sure baby?”

“Sure.”

“Listen, there will be time for all this later.” Ford took over, much bossier than I last remembered too. “But first, tell me Stan, are there any security breaches? Does _anyone else_ know about the portal?”

“No, just us.” Stan gestured at everyone.” Also, maybe the entire U.S. Government.”  
“The _what_?!” Ford was furious.

Suddenly we all heard a voice coming from the control room.

“Fan out! We’re not going anywhere ‘til we find Stan Pines and those kids!”

“Guess one of the screens is ok.” Soos glanced through the window.

Ford sighed heavily, beginning to pace slightly.

“Okay. It’s all right. We’ve got a while before they find this room. We just need to lay low and _think of a plan._ ”

“I don’t know if this helps, but I jammed the door of the elevator open after getting down here.” I volunteered, “should stop the elevator from going back upstairs, even if they find the secret door.”

“Good job baby.” Stan praised, Ford giving me a brief, appraising gaze.

“Yes. Well done Carla.”

“You knew about the secret door behind the vending machine Great Auntie Carla?” Dipper asked, the look of betrayal evident on his face. My heart panged painfully at his use of the formal “Great Aunt”, but I nodded anyway.

“Yes Dipper,” I sighed, “I knew about all about the portal and about Stan’s brother.”

Dipper turned away from me and for a moment, the pain in my heart at seeing him so hurt eclipsed the pain from my ankle.

“It’s not ya Grauntie’s fault kid.” Stan reached for Dipper, looking equally hurt as Dipper pulled away from him too. “I’m the only reason she lied to you guys... and the reason she ended up mixed up in this mess.”

“Ok. Well, it looks like we’re stuck down here for a while. Who wants to tell us their entire mysterious and personal history?” Mabel chimed in, looking less betrayed than her brother even as she comforted him.

“Yes, I have some questions about this myself Stanley.” Ford glared at his brother.

Dipper turned suspiciously.

“Stanley?”

“But your name is Stanford.” Mabel asked, looking questioningly at Stan as she walked over to sit next to me.

Ford rounded on Stanley.

“Wait, you took _my_ name?! What have you been doing all these years, you knucklehead?!”

“Yeah! Grunkle Stan, no more lies!” Dipper fumed. “You owe us some answers, what’s the deal with this portal? Why did you keep this a secret?”

“And what happened between you and your brother?” Mabel added.

Stan gave me a tired look and I shrugged.

There was no avoiding it now.

This was the moment.

Time for the entire truth to come out. Every last dirty detail. And every one of our lies exposed.

It was going to be a rough ride.

“I hope this all aligns _exactly_ with my fanfic, Stan. If not I will be very disappointed.” Soos pointed out, joining everyone expectantly waiting for one of the brothers to start talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's a cliff hanger!  
> Sorry guys!  
> But I wanted to make sure everything was covered correctly and paced well... so you'll have to wait a little while longer :)


	22. August 2012 - ...And Everything Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after a long, dramatic retelling of their tragic history (which Soos almost totally nailed with his fanfiction... except for the slightly important fact that Stan's twin brother had NOT been turned into a horrifying marshmallow and chicken nugget monster during the Space wars), Stanley finally gets to the part where this story began... oh. And Mabel is still desperate for everyone to hug it out and just love each other again.

August 2012

 

My heart broke all over again, just as it had in 1982, as Stan recounted the pain of losing Ford.

“I’d lost him. I didn’t know if he was dead or alive in some distant galaxy, but I knew his journal must have the answer to getting him back. Somehow. I didn’t get much sleep that night. Or the night after that. I tried for weeks to turn that dumb machine back on. But without the other two journals, it was hopeless.”

Mabel glanced between me and Stan.

“So when did you arrive here Grauntie Carla?”

“About seven months later. After Stanley had already started using Stanford’s name and was giving tours of this place.” I nodded at Stan to keep going.

“I needed a plan. I couldn’t leave my brother’s house until I figured out how to save him, but I needed to pay his mortgage somehow. And for once in my life, people were actually being what I was selling. And so the Murder Hut was born!”

“Later renamed the Mystery Shack.” I added quickly.

“But I’d finally found something I was good at. For once, being a liar and cheat paid off. The old me was dead and I faked a car crash to prove it. By day I was Stanford Pines; Mr Mystery. But by night, I was down in the basement, trying to bring the real Stanford back. I couldn’t risk anyone learning the truth and sabotaging my mission, until Carla showed up here.”

“Why **did** you show up here Carla?”Ford interjected suddenly.

I glanced at Stan who just shrugged.

“I got a letter... I thought it was from you.” I replied, sticking to mostly truths.

“Me huh?” Ford gave his brother a scornful look.

“It was from Ma you idiot.” Stan snapped, “She was desperate for you and Carla to reconnect after I supposedly died.”

“And you came?” Ford turned back to me with surprise on his face.

“You were my friend once. What else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just, _not_ , help you” I shrugged. It had seemed so simple all those years ago.

“Aww. That’s so sweet.” Mabel cooed. “You hadn’t talked for 10 years but she was still concerned for you!”

Ford’s expression was painful to read and I turned away, hurt lancing my heart again.

“But when you got here... you found Grunkle Stan.” Dipper continued and I nodded.

“Yes. It only took a few days before I knew I had to stay and help him, whatever and however long it took. For Stanford’s sake.” I added, glancing at the tall, sullen man.

“It was dangerous.” Ford stated. I shrugged again.

“And? All I knew was that Stan needed me.” I replied.

I caught sight of the sad smile on Stan’s face and offered him a small smile in return.

“So that’s why we lied to everyone; the town, my family, your parents and even you kids.” Stan sighed, the weight of 30 years finally sliding from him.

“We’re so sorry you two.” I added, wrapping my arm around Mabel. “We didn’t want you guys caught in this mess.”

“Guess we failed there too.” Stan grimaced. Dipper looked thoughtfully between Stan, me, Ford and the fallen portal.

“So all this time, you were just trying to save your brother. Grunkle Stan, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.” He said softly, dipping his head in shame. Stan smiled weakly and laid a hand on Dipper’s shoulder.

“That’s okay kid. I probably wouldn’t have believed me either.”

There was a sudden noise above us. Muffled footsteps and distant voices.

“I heard talking! It was coming from downstairs!”

Stan jumped and stared up.

“Oh no, it’s too late, the agents are comin’ for us!”

“What do we do?!” Mabel squeaked as she clung to my side.

I glanced around desperately. There was no way out of the basement from here. We were too far down. And running wasn’t an option anyway... not with my ankle.

The only one of us who may have a weapon of sorts was Ford, and he was simply stuck staring at the control room. So much for the genius.

“Aw, man. I was so spellbound by your dramatic tales, I forgot all about those dudes.” Soos kicked a foot against the ground and picked up a chunk of twisted metal, swinging it a few times as if testing it as a weapon.

Dipper started.

“Wait, forget. That’s it! I  think I know a way we might be able to defeat those agents!” Dipper ran across to his forgotten backpack and retrieved the strangest looking device I’d ever seen. Not even Stan would have cobbled something like that together... all glass tubes and bronze tubing... What was it?

“Of course! I don’t know how you got hold of one of these but, this is perfect!” Ford enthused as Dipper handed him the device. Ford bounded over to the control room, twins and Soos following at his heels as Stan bent and scooped me off the floor before carrying me bridal-style to the control room. Ford was busy fiddling with the strange gun-like device and pulling wires from a section of the wall.

“If I can just amplify the signal to a radio headset frequency...” Ford muttered as he begin to fix wires to the device before pulling down a concealed periscope and staring through it.

I exchanged a look with Stan as Ford seemed to find what he was looking for. At least Ford seemed content enough to work with us for now, rather than fighting us.

“There. Now, everyone... PLUG YOUR EARS! GET DOWN... NOW!” Ford hit a switch and fell to the floor. We all copied, Stan dropping and covering me as if trying to physically protect me too.

Clapping my hands over my ears, I gasped as a strange pressure wave rippled past us and up through the ceiling.

No one spoke for a few minutes.

Eventually, Ford glanced up and cautiously uncovered his ears.

“Seems safe now.” He announced casually as we all stared at him.

“Seems?” Stan muttered quietly above me. I nudged him, wincing as he accidently hit my bad ankle as he stood.

“Did, did it work?” Dipper asked nervously.

“Only one way to find out.” Stan dusted himself off and helped me back up. “Let’s go upstairs. Soos, take hold of Carla.”

“Sure thing Mr Pines.” Soos slid his arm around me and took most of my weight as Stan started towards the elevator, a stern looking Ford behind him.

“Go on,” I gestured after them, the twins looking at me for reassurance. “Stan and Ford won’t let anything happen to you. Or Stan won’t anyway.” I added quietly.

The twins ran after their great uncles, Soos and I following slowly.

 

Soos and I arrived back in the apparently empty gift shop just in time to see a bemused agent Trigger handing Ford a flash drive of some sort.

“Did we win?” Soos whispered.

I shrugged, listening to Ford order the agents away from the house.

“Well? What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Get out of here before I have your as-butts court-marshalled!”

Agent Powers flinched.

“Uhh, yes sir, apologies sir.” He stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply. “False alarm everyone!”

Within minutes, every last government agent and vehicle had vanished from the property and we were left in the relative quiet of the glade once more.

Ford glanced at the drive in his hand and absently held it out to Gompers, who was sneaking closer to the edge of his coat for a nibble. Gompers bleated and snatched the offered drive, leaping from the deck and running off to god knows where.

The twins appeared from their hiding place inside a rack of clothing and dashed out to Ford.

“Great uncle Stanford, that was amazing!” Mabel gushed.

Stan stepped out from behind the postcard stand.

“Let’s not go crazy; it was serviceable.” He muttered, helping Soos get me outside with everyone else.

Ford seemed embarrassed but flattered by Dipper and Mabel’s attention.

“Thank you kids, but please, call me Ford.”

Dipper was practically vibrating with excitement now the danger had passed.

“Sure! Thanks, Great uncle Ford. So, uh... would you mind if I asked you like, a coupla billion questions about Gravity Falls?!” He had pulled a pen and notepad from somewhere and was clicking away with his pen excitedly.

“Um, well I- uh...” Ford rubbed the back of his neck in a very familiar way and I couldn’t help but smile despite my exhaustion and pain. Stan on the other hand, looked slightly less than thrilled by Dipper’s enthusiasm.

“All right kids,” He stepped forward suddenly, leaving me wobbling against Soos slightly. “it’s been a long day and me and my brother have a lot to talk about. Why don’t you hit the hay, huh?”

Dipper practically pouted.

“But, it’s the author! I’ve been waiting so long to ask questions about-”

“Dipper.” I interrupted, “It’s late. Your questions can wait another night.”

“Exactly. Like I said. Hit. The . Hay.” Stan sternly turned Mabel and Dipper back towards the door and gently pushed them through it, Ford frowned slightly and turned around to stare at the trees.

“You too Soos.” I patted Soos’ arm with a smile. “Thank you for keeping me upright.”

Soos grinned back and gently propped me up against the wall.

“No problem Mrs Pines. I’ll just... let myself out.” He sidestepped away, still looking at Stan and Ford curiously before disappearing around the corner of the house.

I fought the urge to laugh as I heard him calling Wendy and start to tell her everything that had just occurred.

Then it was just myself, Stan and Ford left standing in the dying evening in silence.

“Stan?” I called out. “Wanna help get me back inside? Think I should put ice on my ankle... Or maybe I should just chop it off. It might be done for at this point.” I joked weakly.

Stan tore his gaze from his brother’s back.

“Wha- oh, OH! Crap, Carla!” He rushed back over and I grabbed his arm gratefully. Stan steered me inside and I caught hold of the doorframe, looking back at Ford.

“You can’t stay outside all night Stanford Pines. Come on. I’m fairly certain you could use a meal, or maybe a strong shot of booze.”

Ford seemed startled to hear the casualness in my tone, eyes wide at the familiarity I was currently forcing.

Stan stayed quiet, the tense set of his shoulders telling me all I needed to know.

As Ford fell in behind us without a word, Stan eventually picked me up and sped toward the kitchen.

“Was faster than hobbling.” He excused sullenly as he set me down at the kitchen table.

“I’m sure that’s your only reason.” I grimaced as Stan lifted my leg gingerly and eased my shoe off.

My ankle had swollen badly, a dark bruise already spreading around my ankle bone.

Stan whistled.

“You did a real number on it huh?”

“Might need to use those painkillers that are illegal everywhere except Peru.” I joked, hissing in a breath as Stan softly checked for any broken bones or fracturing.

Stan smiled, taking his jacket off and bundling it under my foot before heading to the freezer.

Ford sidled into the kitchen and winced in sympathy at my ankle.

“That looks painful.” He commented awkwardly.

“And they call you the genius.” I teased, Stan slamming the freezer shut with a scowl.

Right. Maybe a little too soon for the casualness and familiarity... especially since there was so much to argue about still. I could feel it in the air as Stan busied himself with icing my ankle and retrieving a wrap bandage from the medical box, all while being watched hawkishly by Ford.

There was a storm brewing here, between the two estranged brothers and I wasn’t looking forward to it breaking. So many lies, so much hurt, so much ANGER... I only hoped we’d survive this without resorting to killing each other.

 

I limped away from the attic, having gone and tucked the twins in after assuring Stan I could stand with the aid of his 8-ball cane. Ford had vanished sometime earlier, mumbling something about the basement. Stan had remained sullen, deciding to go and change into something less ripped.

Slowly making my way down the stairs, I paused as I heard two voices talking quietly in the hallway.

“- here’s the deal. You can stay here the rest of summer to watch the kids. I’ll stay down in the basement and try to contain any remaining damage. But when the summer’s over, you give me my house back, you give me my _name_ back, and this Mystery Shack junk is over forever. You got it?”

I couldn’t believe it... was Ford kicking Stan to the curb, _again_?

“You really aren’t going to thank me, are you?” Stan asked, sighing tiredly when he got no reply. “Fine.”  
I almost fell over as Stan agreed. What happened to all his fight?

“On one condition; you stay away from the kids and Carla. I don’t want them in any danger. ‘Cause as far as I’m concerned, they’re the only family I have left.”

There was a soft creak as Stan started up the stairs.

I didn’t bother attempting to move, meeting Stan’s sad gaze as he came round the corner.

“Stan...” I whispered, heart already twisting at the expression on his face.

But Stan just walked past me, hunching over on himself as I reached out to him. He continued on to our bedroom and the door closed slowly behind him.

I closed my eyes with a small sigh, a lump already forming in my throat.

What was the point of all our hard work if Ford just kicked us out anyway?

Ford.

I could hear faint footfalls downstairs and felt my sadness beginning to turn back into anger.

How dare he get thrown back into our lives and continue to make Stan feel like the inferior twin! Stan wasn’t the idiot who built the damn portal in the first place!

I wasn’t going to let him make Stan feel like the 17-year old alone on the streets again. Stan deserved far more than that, and Ford should be grateful that Stan got him home from wherever he’d been!

Fuelled by that indignation and anger, I limped down the stairs. I was slightly thankful that the children were tucked up asleep in the attic and that Stan was hiding away in our room. I wasn’t sure Ford would tolerate being told off by an injured, tiny old lady. I might not be able to kick his ass like I used too, but I could still yell at him.

Catching sight of Ford’s coat disappearing into the lounge, I followed him as the anger began to boil in my stomach.

“Ford?” I called, floor creaking as I leaned my weight on the step. Ford whirled around with a scary expression, already reaching for something tucked under his coat.

I froze and after a beat lifted my hands slightly in a mock gesture of surrender.

Ford relaxed slightly, offering me a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You startled me.” He said.

“I saw that.” I replied cautiously, slowly edging toward him as fear succeeded in briefly overtaking my anger. The look on his face... I’d seen it before. In Stan’s mind, when Ford had killed the creature hunting him. It was a mix of determination and absolute certainty that whatever he was facing would lose, and I had no doubt that what he was hiding under his coat was a weapon of some sort to assist him with that.

Ford was certainly no longer the shy, gentle boy I’d known back in Glass Shard Beach.

Ford cleared his throat.

“Are, are you alright?” He asked awkwardly.

“It’s been a crazy day. I’d surprised anyone in this house could sleep tonight.”

“The twins...” Ford frowned.

“Are probably still wide awake.” I smiled to myself, “But Stan’s threats of never letting them go on any more adventures is enough to keep them upstairs and at least trying to sleep.”

Ford nodded slowly, still glancing around awkwardly. I leaned against the side of the recliner, still aware of the anger at Ford trapped inside of me... but I wasn’t quite ready to start yelling. I’d rather avoid it if we could.

“Ford,” I started again, “Ford, I’m really glad to see you again.”

“Really?” Ford seemed shocked, the expression making him look just like he had all those years ago when I first called him a friend.

“Yes. I thought we’d never see you again,” I hesitated slightly, “well, I did anyway. Stan was always so sure he’d get you back.”

At that, Ford’s face darkened.

“I’m sure he did. Messing around with something as dangerous as the portal, like he actually knew what he was doing. The idiot.”

I frowned at that.

“That isn’t fair Ford. I helped him rebuild the portal. If you’re going to call him an idiot, you have to call me one too.”

Ford stared at me, an incredulous look on his face.

“What? How could you- don’t you know the danger you put yourself in? What could have happened if -”

“Yes.” I interrupted, “I read your journal more than Stan did. I cracked almost every code you used. And after Dipper discovered the invisible ink, I continued to-”

“Dipper found that out? Did you both involve the children?” Ford broke in sharply, a disapproving look on his face that reminded me suddenly of Filbrick.

I pursed my lips at the insinuation behind his words. What would Ford know about keeping Mabel and Dipper safe? He didn’t even know them yet.

“Not intentionally. We tried to keep them from ever discovering the weirdness of Gravity Falls. But Dipper found your journal out in the woods and had been reading it for half of the summer.” I said sternly, secretly pleased to see the shock reappear on Ford’s face.

“So you read all my warnings, and you still helped Stanley almost destroy the world?!” Ford asked, voice slowly growing louder and more frantic. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“I almost did.” My own voice was low and sharp, stopping Ford’s frantic questions. “If it had only been me working on that portal, you wouldn’t be here. Stan’s the one who made sure you came home to us.”

“You should’ve left, left and-”

“Let Stanley struggle alone and afraid for the second time in his life?” I asked quietly.

Ford gaped at me and I felt that anger surge back up, unable to hold my opinions back any longer.

“He came here to help you Ford. After years of believing you hated him, he came when you asked. No matter the trouble it caused him, and believe me, he still had to deal with that trouble later.” I spat, remembering the sound of gunshot and the searing pain lancing my upper thigh all those years ago.

“Carla-” Ford tried to interrupt but I wasn’t having a bar of it.

“Stanley’s spent 30 years trying to bring you back to apologise to you. But you can’t even admit that he’s done something right. Does it bother you so much that he managed to do something you couldn’t?” I asked nastily.

Ford frowned, jaw tensing as he looked at me.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Stan fixed that portal with very little help. He taught himself complex sciences from outdated textbooks, night after night of pushing himself to learn what everyone told him he’d never understand... years of being called the dumb twin and yet he fixed a machine even you couldn’t build without help. **While** maintaining a fairly successful business too. And it bothers you. It would be so much easier for you if he was still the dumb muscle who broke your science project and had no future, then you’d be able to hate him.”

“He still IS that dumb idiot Carla!” Ford finally snapped. “He ruined my life 40 years ago and then 30 years ago, he ruined it even further by pushing me into the portal!”

“Listen to you! All this started over a stupid science project! It’s been 40 years Ford! Time to let it go!”

“No! He ruined my entire life. If he hadn’t destroyed my hard work, I wouldn’t have ended up here, stuck studying anomalies and almost-” Ford swallowed hard and looked away harshly. “I can’t forgive him for what he’s done.”

I snorted contemptuously and rolled my eyes.

“Oh for Pete’s sake Stanford. You can’t always blame your problems on Stanley. I know who got tricked into building the damn portal and threatening the entirety of the human race. By a flattering dream demon too. Honestly, and you call Stanley the dumb one.”

Ford paled, glancing at me in fear.

“You know?”

“I read your journals Ford. I know his name and what he did to you.” I continued, anger slowly dying down as we approached the real terror lurking behind the tragedy 30 years ago.

“Cipher.” Ford whispered.

“Cipher.” I repeated, slightly firmer.

“Carla, I- I don’t have time to explain everything to you,” Ford clenched his fists as he took a deep breath. “But Stanley did untold damage by reactivating the portal. It was always unstable and his ham-fisted repairs have made it even more so-”

“No.” I sighed and pushed myself away from the recliner. Leaning heavily on the cane, I limped forward and grabbed Ford’s elbow. “Not tonight.”

Ford exhaled, frustrated.

“You, you wouldn’t understand. The sooner I can check the damage-”

“And I said no.” I repeated, tugging his arm impatiently. “Just like we told the kids, everything can wait until tomorrow. You can argue all you want, but I won’t hesitate to use this cane on you. I may be injured, but I’m still completely capable of bossing you around Pines.”

Ford glanced at the door that led to the gift shop and then back at me.

In the light of the lounge, despite his greying hair and much thicker, muscular build, Ford was still the boy I’d known. Much more guarded and secretive, but for just a moment, I saw the pain and sadness in those hazel eyes that were identical to Stan’s.

If he truly was just as hurt as Stan, there may be hope for them yet. But I knew better then to expect them to discuss it like rational adults. They were Pines men, stubborn as mules and as emotionally inclined as teaspoons. It was going to be a hell of a ride to try and change Ford’s mind about kicking us out.

Sighing as I realised that Ford hadn’t budged, despite my persistent tugging on his arm, I gave in and took a step back.

“Your old study down the hall is just as you left it.” I said softly. “It’s dusty, but it’s the only room in the house that doesn’t leak and I’m fairly certain that Gompers never-” A frown crossed my face suddenly, “Wait, that might not be quite true... I wonder if that was how the infestation of owls got in...”

“Carla, what on earth are you talking about?” Ford looked as lost as he could be by my rapid change in conversation.

“Well, Gompers may have gotten into your study at some point and chewed a hole in the wall. I don’t remember if we ever fixed that hole. We might have just shoved a box in front of it.” I shrugged apologetically. “We didn’t go in there a lot.”

Ford still seemed a little lost and was in no hurry to add to our conversation.

“Do you think you’ll be ok to sleep in there?” I asked.

Ford waved his hand in response.

“I’m sure I’ve had worse.”

A pregnant silence fell.

I wanted so badly to ask what had happened to Ford in the portal, how he’d survived for so long, what he’d experienced... But I knew Ford wouldn’t tell me, even if I could find the courage to ask. This Ford was too guarded, too angry and bitter. He’d never tell me.

A series of muffled thumps above our heads broke the silence and I sighed sadly.

“That’s the closet door.” I muttered, “Should give him five more minutes.”

“Was that, Stanley?” Ford asked, looking up.

“Whenever he gets upset, he still has to punch something... like the closet door. He’ll probably kick the bed frame next.”

There was a louder, slightly hollow thump and a muffled exclamation.

“I hope the twins are asleep,” I frowned, “that sounded explicit.”

An unexpected noise startled me. Ford was chuckling quietly.

“You know him so well.”

I stared at him as there was a clang from upstairs as Stan no doubt knocked over a lamp.

“What do you expect Ford? We’ve lived together for 30 years, you get to know someone’s patterns during that time. Which means he’ll probably stub his toe on the bedside table next and then kick it...”

We both waited in silence, looking up at the ceiling expectantly.

There was nothing.

My stomach plummeted.

“That’s not good,” I muttered, “no bedside table.”

“Is that bad?”

“I, I should go back upstairs and-” I started to back toward the door, only to stop as something shattered above us. “OR, I could give him a few more minutes.”

“I still don’t understand why he’s so angry. It’s not like he’s the one who had his life ruined.” Ford said quietly.

I exhaled in frustration.

“Stanford, he’s angry because you made him feel worthless again. All he wanted was for you to say thank you for bringing you home. If you’d done that instead of acting like such a damn Pines, he probably would’ve accepted that he endangered the world.”

“Thank him? Thank him for causing this?”

“Do I have to remind you which one of you two built the portal first?”

“I never intended to use it!”

“Yes you did! Your assistant almost got pulled through it during a test run! Not to mention the whole purpose of that portal was to bring some sort of global destruction to this world any way.”

Ford pursed his lips as I glared at him, the argument interrupted by a series of metallic thumps.

“Fuck.” I cursed and rubbed my forehead tiredly. “Look, I don’t have the time or the patience to explain that you’re as much to blame as Stan here, Ford. And I might be done yelling at you for now, but I’m still mad and I will be mad for a while. You come back, you start a fight, you blame Stan for everything and threaten to take everything away from him while kicking him out **again**.”

Ford’s mouth fell open slightly.

“You, you heard that then?” He asked with a guilty twitch.

“Yes. And I haven’t even started to get angry about that yet. But just do what Stan asked you to do. Stay away from the kids. They’ve been put in enough danger already.” I turned and limped back to the door.

“But not to stay away from you Carla?” Ford’s question made me stop, the slight hope in his voice twisting traitorously into my angry heart.

“No,” I sighed, not looking at Ford, “Stan can’t talk for me. But don’t expect me to just accept what you say. You can’t make me feel inferior, never could and never will. I won’t hesitate to chew you out over bullshit.” I warned as Stan continued to take his frustrations out in our bedroom. “Now I have to go and comfort my husband before he wrecks our home. Goodnight Ford.”

I didn’t bother waiting for a reply.

Quite frankly, I didn’t care if he replied or not.

 

X

 

Not bothering to knock, I gently pushed the door of the bedroom open to find the room shrouded in darkness.

“Stan? Stanley?” I asked quietly, reaching for the light switch. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

There wasn’t a reply.

I took a deep breath and flicked the lights on to reveal a hunched over Stan sitting on the bed, knuckles bleeding and tear tracks drying on his face.

“Oh Stanley.” I breathed and limped over to sit next to him, avoiding the broken glass on the floor.

Stan didn’t react, just continued to stare at his hands blankly.

I rested the cane against the bed and reached out to stroke my fingers through his hair.

“He still hates me” Stan muttered after a few minutes.

“Stan...”

“No. It’s true Carla! He still thinks I’m a dumb idiot who ruins everything I touch!”

“He’s just angry Stan. He’s being through god knows what  in god knows where for the last 30 years, and now he suddenly finds himself back in a house he hardly remembers.” I dropped my hand to his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Let’s just give him some time before we start making assumptions.”

“You heard him though. He wants to kick me out.”

“He won’t.” I said firmly, “I won’t let him.”

Stan finally turned to face me and before he could say anything, I wiped his cheeks gently.

“You talked to him, didn’t you?” He asked.

“Yes. And it got heated.” I sighed, moving my attention to his bloodied knuckles. “What did you punch Stan?”

“Nuthin’.” Stan muttered stubbornly.

“Stanley...”

“The furnace.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled my handkerchief from my pocket and wrapped it around one of his hands tightly. Without a word, I reached into Stan’s jacket and pulled out his handkerchief, repeating the action on his other hand.

“There. One problem solved.” I placed a gentle kiss on the back of his hand.

“And a big problem living in our basement.” Stan added morosely.

“Well that’s nothing unusual is it? We’ve been living with a problem in our basement for years.”

“S’ppose so.”

Stan straightened with a sigh, rolling his shoulders back.

“You don’t ruin everything you touch by the way.” I commented.

“What?”

“You said earlier that Ford thinks you ruin everything you touch. You don’t.”

Stan gave me a nonplussed look. I smiled and continued.

“Look at me. You didn’t ruin my life. Despite living with the weirdness in Gravity Falls, I’ve loved spending my life with you.”

Stan suddenly crushed me to his chest in a tight hug.

“Stanley!” I protested, muffled against his shoulder.

“I love you Carla. You’re the only goddamn person to have seen who I am and still love me back!”

“Stanley! I can’t breathe!”

Stan released me with a dopey grin.

“Ya called me Stanley.”

“I’ve said it several times since coming in here you old fool.” I said fondly.

“Yeah, but, like I only just realised. Feels kinda good to know that ya can call me that again without anyone getting confused.”

“In the house any way. You’re still Stanford Pines out in Gravity Falls.” I reminded him.

Stan screwed up his face.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess. Long as I don’t have to act like I have a stick shoved up my own ass.” He muttered. I smiled, fighting the urge to laugh.

“Alright, that’s enough. Come on mister. It’s been a long day and tomorrow’s probably going to be just as crazy. We deserve at least one proper night’s sleep.” I got to my feet with a grimace and attempted to tug Stan up after me.

“How’s the ankle?” Stan asked, still refusing to move.

“Sore. Need to rest it. Now will you get up and help me tidy your mess before we sleep?”

Nope.” Stan got to his feet and scooped me off the floor.

“Stanley, what are you doing?!”  
“You can rest and I’ll deal with this lot.” Stan turned and placed me on the bed, grabbing a pillow and sticking it under my ankle. I surrendered without complaint. My ankle was throbbing painfully, exhaustion trying to claw its way over me.

Stan hurriedly gathered the larger shards of glass into a creased shirt that had been lying on the floor, sweeping his shoed foot over the floor afterwards to try and push the tiny pieces under the bedside table.

“We’ll still have to sweep properly tomorrow.” I murmured, eyes starting to close.

“It can wait.”

“Uh huh.” I yawned as the bed dipped, Stan moving to lie beside me as he kicked his shoes off. He reached out and took hold of my hand.

“Thanks baby.”

“Hmm?”

“For everything in the last 30 years, but mostly for today. I know it looked pretty hairy for a while, but ya handled it like a pro.” Stan lifted my hand and kissed the back of it softly.

“I’m just glad it all worked out.”

“Sorta.”

“Sorta.” I agreed.

Stan huffed and rolled over to tuck an arm over me.

“Ya think he’ll stop being mad at me Carla?”

I sighed.

“I don’t know Stan. I hope he does.”

Stan made a vague sound of agreement. We lay in silence for a moment.

“Stan?”

“Mmm?”

“The light’s still on.”

“Tough. We’ve slept through worse.” Stan replied, closing his eyes with a faint look of determination.

“Sttaannn.” I complained.

“Ugh! Fine!” Stan swung himself off the bed and hit the light switch. The room was plunged into darkness and I couldn’t help but laugh as Stan immediately caught his foot on the floor.

“Dammit!” Stan landed on the bed heavily.

“You alright?”

“Oh **sure**. I’ve just spent half my life repairing a world-endangering device to bring home my asshole of a brother who still hates my guts and wants to throw me out. I almost lost my niece and nephew, my wife was arrested and then seriously injured, then I go and decide to pick a fight with a furnace and now I’ve just gone and tripped on a loose fucking floorboard!” Stan ended his rant breathing heavily.

I waited for a few seconds as his breathing slowed.

“Feel better?”

“ ‘es.” Stan curled back into me and I wrapped an arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

“Everything will work out darling.” I reassured softly. “Just wait and see.”

There wasn’t a reply from Stan.

I stared at the ceiling in the dark, sighing quietly.

This was far from the homecoming we had expected with Ford.

Two brothers were meant to finally reconnect and put their past where it belonged, behind them. But now we just had a house full of questions, doubts and anger.

I really couldn’t see a way for this to get better...

But even if I had to bang their heads together several times, I was determined to fix their relationship.

For Stan’s sake.


	23. August 2012 - The Pines Twins are Idiots

August 2012

 

**Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!**

I rolled over blearily, reaching across Stan to swat at the bedside table for the damn alarm clock. Stun grunted as my flailing woke him up, gently shoving me back and slamming his own hand onto the snooze button.

“Mmthankyou.” I mumbled as I patted Stan’s chest.

Stan yawned and rested his hand on top of mine briefly before opening his eyes with a groan.

“Alright Stan, another day, another random body pain. Here we go.” He sighed and shifted his weight as he rolled upwards.

“Old man.” I teased, sitting up beside him and rubbing my eyes.

“Oh yeah. Says you with the busted ankle.” Stan shot back with a tired grin.

“Touché.” I smiled, testing my weight on my ankle. I might not need the cane anymore, but I certainly couldn’t run anywhere anytime soon.

There was a sad, squishy sound as Stan placed his feet on the ground.

“Ugh!”

“What?” I asked, already up and reaching for my dressing gown.

“Dear Stan, I needed something to carry milk in, so I used your slippers. Love Mabel.” Stan read out loud a note that had been left next to the clock. He shuddered in disgust.

“Oh.” I pulled a sympathetic face. “Well, no matter. I can always wash the milk out.”

“Uh huh.” Stan acknowledged, pulling his bathrobe on with a resigned sigh.

He grumbled away to himself as we walked downstairs, or squelched down stairs in Stan’s case.

 “I wonder if Ford will joi – argh!” I yelped as Stan flicked the kitchen light switch and the bulb exploded.

“Oh for fu-” Stan caught his swearing in time, the curse trailing out into a long groan as he schlepped over to the cupboard for a spare bulb, only to find another note.

“Dear Stan, I took these to build a planetarium suit for Soos! Sorry! Dipper.”

“We don’t really need the lights to make breakfast anyway,” I placated, walking over to pat Stan’s arm, “then, after breakfast, I can run down to the store. No problem.”

“Nah, I’ll go now. Get the problem fixed before anyone else wakes up.” Stan grabbed his keys and stomped damply out of the house, bathrobe and all.

“Going to be one of those days.” I sighed, watching Stan drive away.

 

Coming back downstairs a little while later, I was just snapping the clasp of my watch into place as I heard the familiar purr of the Diablo’s engine.

“Hm. Took him a while. Hope everything’s ok.” I murmured, walking toward the kitchen only to stop in the door way.

Ford was up on a chair, fiddling with the broken overhead light as the twins and Soos watched in admiration.

I supposed I couldn’t quite blame them for being so in love with Ford.  
Suddenly having a new uncle, and one who’d been through mysterious adventures in other dimensions no less, was always exciting (and truth be told, I was loving having Ford back myself), but Stan was certainly feeling like second best again.

Seeing everyone here in the kitchen watching Ford sort the problem Stan himself had set out to fix... it was only going to make Stan feel worse.

Realising that no one had spotted me yet, I crossed to the back door to greet a tired and bedraggled-looking Stan before his morning could get worse.

“What happened? Are you ok? Here. Let me take those, go and get dressed.” I babbled, attempting to grab the box of light bulbs and simultaneously steer Stan towards the stairs.

Stan frowned, holding the box above my head.

“I gotta replace the light first Carla.” He protested, moving past me. “Ugh. Rough start to a day. But it’s all gonna be worth it when I fix that light bul-”

I grimaced and bit my thumbnail as Stan paused in the kitchen door, watching Ford finish screwing in a new light bulb.

“And... we’re... done!” Ford announced, grinning as the kids cheered.

“Does anyone see this? This is what a hero looks like, right here!” Mabel crowed, full of enthusiasm for her new Grunkle Ford.

I winced behind Stan.

Ouch. That was going to hurt Stan a lot, particularly coming from Mabel.

“I- I thought we were out of light bulbs.” Stan pointed out uselessly. Ford turned to Stan, still grinning.

“Oh, we were. So I invented my own. It will last a thousand years and the light it emits makes your skin soft.”

Once again, all of the kids cooed in response as they rubbed their hands and arms.

Ford beamed at the kids in turn before looking back at Stan.

“Anyway, where were you?”

Stan stayed quiet, just dropping the new box of light bulbs into the trash can before walking away towards the front room.

“Stan...” I started, reaching out for him. Stan shrugged me off without a word and I felt my heart drop.

There was a click and distant murmuring of the news playing in the front room.

At the sound of the tv, Mabel and Dipper trotted out of the kitchen, smiling widely at me before heading into the front room themselves. Soos chose to tip his hat at me with a grin as he ambled out of the back door.

I walked into the kitchen, stooping to pull the box out of the bin as Ford straightened the chairs.

“What have you got there Carla?” he asked as I wandered over and placed the now dented box on the table.

“Oh, just the light bulbs Stan went and got for us.” I smiled sadly, hand still resting on the box.

“I didn’t know...” Ford rubbed the back of his neck, sounding sheepish.

“No. No you wouldn’t have. Stan doesn’t really announce what he’s doing. He just does.”

“Impulsive.” Ford chimed in, a flare of irritation tightening my chest at his implication.

“Instinctive.” I corrected, opening the box to see if any of the bulbs were still usable. “But thanks for fixing the light anyway Ford.” I added, turning to place the box of bulbs away.

“Goingtoatownmeetingatthehall.Mayordead.Seeyouguyslater,BYEEE!” Mabel yelled as everyone ran past the kitchen in a hurry to get out the door.

Ford and I stood in silence, blinking dumbly at one another, until the noise died down.

“What was that about?” Ford looked lost.

“No idea. Guess I’d better follow them. It’s a lovely day for a walk anyway.” I went to leave and hesitated. “Did she say someone was dead?”

 

X

 

By the time I had limped up to the town hall, there was a raucous shouting and people came streaming outside chanting “Election! Election!”

A canon fired and I reflectively dropped to the ground.

Once I was sure that there wasn’t any actual danger and the craziness seemed to have passed, I entered the town hall to find Stan and the twins clustered by the lectern.

I bit back a groan.

Of course they were involved.

I approached in time to hear Dipper talking to Stan.

“We don’t think you can do it.”

Stan sighed and sat at the base of the lectern.

“Look kids, the mayor kicking the bucket got me thinking. I’m an old man, and I’m not getting any younger. My dumb brother’s research is probably gonna make him famous,” Stan pulled a face, “and what do I have to show for my life? Do I really want ‘Crooked Grifter’ on my tombstone? How about, ‘Crooked Mayor’!”

I almost choked.

Mayor?! Was he serious?!

“You could try ‘Idiotic Husband’.” I suggested curtly, alerting Stan to my presence. The twins were already huddled together and whispering as Stan got to his feet.

“Why?” I demanded as Stan pulled a stack of voting papers from god knows where, and began stuffing them into the ballot box.

“Huh? Oh, well ya know, whoever has the most votes-” Stan’s voice faltered under my expression.

“We’re going home for a little chat.” I said firmly as the twins turned around. “Now!”

 

No sooner had we entered the back door, I grabbed Stan by the ear and dragged him down to the exhibition room, ignoring his loud protests. Letting go of him sharply, I closed the doors and faced him expectantly.

Stan shuffled his feet nervously, not saying anything.

Sighing heavily, I folded my arms and began to tap my foot, knowing exactly how to get Stan to crack first.

Stan’s face crumpled just as I pursed my lips.

Worked like a charm.

“Aw, come on Carla! This isn’t even the dumbest thing I’ve done!”

I arched an eyebrow silently.

“Look, look. I know it’s pretty sudden, but if I win, ya get to be the first lady of Gravity Falls.”

“Mayor’s don’t have first lady’s.” I pointed out.

“Ok, Mayoress then.” Stan let out a sigh and I relented slightly.

“What were you thinking Stan?”

“I dunno... I just, did it.” Stan shrugged, his eyes darting away from mine at the end.

I heard Ford calling him impulsive in my head.

No, there had to be more behind this than just Stan’s usual spontaneity.

“But running for Mayor Stan? That’s reckless, even for you... Is this about Ford this morning?” I asked, dropping my arms. Stan started, looking shocked before trying to play it off.

“What? That big ol’ nerd? Why would he have anything to do with this? It’s not like we’re competing for the kids or anything...”

Stan reached for his back pocket and I leapt forward.

“Oh no you don’t Stanley Pines! You are **not** using a smoke bomb to get out of this conversation!”

Stan froze as my hand closed around his wrist, a strange smile sliding over his face as he looked at me.

“What?” I asked, immediately suspicious.

“It- it’s just, heh, been a long time since ya were able to use my real name while hauling my ass over the fire. Kinda nice to hear.”

I snorted.

“That’s all it took to stop you?” I reached up and cupped my hand under his jaw. “So, Stanley Pines, are you sure your mayoral campaign bid has nothing to do with Ford?”

“Ya already know it does.” Stan said miserably, closing his eyes and leaning into my hand. “He’s gonna kick me out at the end of summer. You’ll be ok, he still likes you. I won’t see the kids anymore, I’ll have nothing of my own again, Hell! I can’t even use my own name when I run for Mayor!” Stan sighed, “If I become Mayor, I’ll have a house, money, respect,”

“And it’ll annoy Ford.” I added with a wry smile.

“Heh, yeah. Cherry on the damn cake.” Stan opened his eyes with a roguish smile. “Whaddya say? Wanna help me do something so stupid, only Stanley Pines coulda thought it up?”

“Well, one of us needs to be the responsible adult,” I teased, “so I guess I’m in!”

Stan whooped excitedly.

“Alright baby! Let’s go and see what those gremlins have cooked up for our campaign trail!”

 

Our front room looked like a patriotic bombsite.

Paper, posters, and people covered every inch.

Deciding that now was a very good time for a tea break, I stepped around the spot where Wendy was currently spraying a campaign slogan along the side of Waddles.

Making it to the relative peace of the kitchen, I listened through the walls as Dipper explained the election process.

It seemed Gravity Falls’ old laws were stranger than the creatures that inhabited the surrounding woods.

As I made tea for myself, coffee for Stan, and poured soda for all of the kids, I could hear Stan take his first radio interview.

With each of his increasingly rash answers, I could feel any hope of winning beginning to crash and burn.

Taking the tray of drinks back to the front room, I picked my way over to the “phone bank” and placed the tray down.

Mabel had a steely determination in her eyes as she tried to explain public relations to Stan.

“Look Grunkle Stan, people are like smell markers, and you’re black liquorice! It’s not that you’re un-sniffible, you just need to learn when to keep the cap on.”

“From now on, maybe you should read our prepared remarks.” Dipper offered, holding out a folded piece of paper with the word “Your Speech” scribbled on it.

Personally, I thought it would probably be a good idea, but Stan didn’t seem to want anything to do with it of course. Stubborn old Pines.

“Heh, heh. Sorry kids. I always say the words that come out of my brain. If my head says, that lady’s got an ugly baby, my mouth says, “whoa, lady, you got one ugly baby”.”

Stan reached for his coffee as Mabel and Dipper exchanged a worried look.

 

X

 

The Wednesday Stump Speech rolled around and I was watching nervously from the side of the crowd with Wendy and her family.

Sheriff Blubs took to the stag to announce the next candidate.

“And now, Stanford Pines!” Blubs gestured as Stan sauntered out onto the stage and leaned against the podium casually.

“Hiya there! Stan Pines here. Let’s get real. Do you think the women of Gravity Falls wear too much makeup?”

I groaned and covered my eyes as Wendy shook her head in disbelief next to me.

“Uh, what I meant to say was; you ladies all look great. And have you done something with your hair? Girl, you are working it.” Stan snapped his fingers sassily as I looked up, suspicious.

That did not sound like Stan at all.

Around me, women in the crowd were murmuring.

“Yes!”

“Finally! Someone noticed!”

“That’s exactly what I needed to hear right now!”

Stan wiped his forehead before grinning again.

“Whew! I’m Stan Pines. You may know me as the guy who accidently let all those bees loose in the elementary school a few years back - ”

“That was Stan?!” Wendy hissed across to me, “That was wicked!”

I didn’t really think to answer her, watching closely as Stan had an odd  body twitch before leaning on the podium again. Something in his behaviour seemed very strange...

“But I do believe in things!” Stan continued, voice getting stronger, “America. Freedom. Ameri-Freedom!”

The crowd began to cheer as I stared, nonplussed. Was Stan actually pulling this off?

“Like my opponent pointed out, I may not have a pretty face. But, if you want a candidate that will listen to you, I’m proud to be all ears!” Stan finished proudly.

I joined in with the enthusiastic clapping  as Wendy and Dan whooped loudly next to me.

Stan’s body twitched again and he suddenly broke into a dance on stage.

Still confused by his erratic behaviour, but elated by people’s response, I excused myself and hurried back stage just as Stan walked off the stage.

Getting to him before Mabel could, I flung my arms around Stan’s neck and planted a big kiss on his cheek.

“You were wonderful sweetheart!”

“Grunkle Stan, that was amazing!” Mabel hugged Stan tightly.

“Yeah. How’d you do it Mr Pines?” Soos had joined us.

Stan gave us a slightly confused smile as Mabel and I let him go.

“Eh, I don’t know. I just opened my mouth and spoke from the heart, or... gut, or something.” Stan paused and glanced around. “And what’s that sound? Why are people jamming their hands together?”

Mabel did a little dance.

“It’s applause! Grunkle Stan, they love you!”

Stan looked dazed.

“They... love... me?” He grinned dopily as he pushed the curtain to one side to see the crowd chanting his name.

“Stan! Stan! Stan! Stan!”

“There he is! Mr Pines, can we get a picture?” Toby Determined approached us and Stan’s grin got impossibly wider.

Wrapping an arm around my waist, Stan pulled me tight to his side as Mabel and Dipper huddled in close beside us.

“Yes we Stan!” we all yelled as the camera flashed.

I glanced up at Stan proudly, hand splayed against his suit and tie.

Maybe he could do this, his way.

 

X

 

A few days later, the twins and I were having breakfast at the dinner. We were waiting for Stan ahead of the big debate and election results.

Dipper looked tense and had hardly touched his food, whereas Mabel had demolished her entire stack of pancakes in record time while drinking about a gallon of syrup.

Before I could ask Dipper if he was ok, the diner door flew open and Stan sauntered in.

“Hey-o!” He flashed his most charming smile as everyone in the diner yelled his name back.

“STAN!”

“Now just the ladies!” Stan crowed.

I rolled my eyes at the sheer number of responding voices. They didn’t even know who Stan Pines really was.

“Now just the ladies my age!” Stan encouraged, catching my eye and winking.

“Not on your life!” I called back, smiling at the laugh it got from the locals.

“Oof! My heart! She got me folks!” Stan bantered, miming a stagger before collapsing next to me in the booth. I kissed his cheek, amid the various catcalls.

Susan wandered over with a stack of fresh pancakes that had a “Stan 4 Mayor” flag stuck in them.

“On the house, mister big shot!” She patted Stan’s shoulder and walked away.

“Now this, I could get used to!” Stan began to dig in.

“Grunkle Stan, what’s with the outfit? You’re missing your lucky tie.” Mabel pointed out.

I glanced across and realised what she meant. Stan had ditched his trademark Mr Mystery suit for his much nicer maroon shirt and white pants... which I preferred, seeing how devilishly handsome in them he was. But maybe I was slightly biased.

“Power tie, gotta wear it.” Dipper added curtly.

Stave waved them off.

“Aw come on, have ya seen the polls? I can debate naked and still win!” Stan chewed thoughtfully, “Huh, come to think of it...”

I cuffed the back of his head automatically, cutting that idea off straight away. I didn’t know what sort of magic had been helping him lately, but it could not be strong enough to cope with a naked Stanley.

Mabel laughed nervously.

“Seriously though, we need you to wear that suit and tie Grunkle Stan.”

“Suit and tie, gotta wear it.” Dipper repeated, eyes focused intently on Stan.

Stan swallowed a mouthful of coffee before throwing a disgruntled look at the twins.

“Urgh. Why do you kids have to constantly tell me what to do? Everyone in this town is finally showing me respect! Maybe you kids should too!”

“Stan!” I hissed, nudging his leg under the table in reprimand. But it seemed Dipper had a response for Stan.

“Grunkle Stan, we’d respect you if you took this more seriously!”

“I am taking this seriously!” Stan thumped his fist on the table. “If you haven’t noticed, everything that has come out of this golden mouth has put us on top! With or without your dumb advice!”

Mabel and I shared a nervous glance as the boys’ tensions began to strain.

“Dumb advice?!” Dipper asked angrily.

“Yeah! Dumb advice.”

Dipper growled in annoyance and slammed his fist down on the table as he stood on the chair.

“Dang it Stan! Everyone of those speeches, we were controlling you!”

“Dipper!” Mabel looked at Dipper in shock.

“What?” Stan looked thrown, and I didn’t blame him. What on earth did Dipper mean they’d been _controlling_ Stan?

Dipper grabbed the tie Stan had been wearing a lot lately and exposed the blinking layer of circuitry inside.

“This is a mind control device invented by Ford! If it wasn’t for this tie, you’d be losing!”

I felt punched in the gut, and Stan didn’t look much better.

How could Ford give something like that to Dipper? How could **Dipper** and **Mabel** use something like that on Stan?! What had they been thinking?!

Still trying to process the enormity of that information and the swirling questions surrounding it, I glanced down at Stan’s hands slowly clenching into fists.

Uh oh.

“Yeah? Well you can tell that know-it-all Ford that he can keep his fancy light bulbs and his magic ties! I’m gonna win this debate on my own, without any of you!” Stan stood and stormed out of the diner.

“Stan!” I called after him, just as Mabel scrambled up in her seat to yell, “Grunkle Stan!”

Exiting the booth to chase after Stan, I paused by Dipper.

“I’m so mad at the both of you right now.” I uttered, words clipped and short as I glanced at the pair. Dipper stared defiantly down at the table and Mabel looked guiltily back at me.

“How could you **do** that too him? I thought you’d have known better than to mess around with people’s minds. I’m going after Stan to calm him down and undo the damage you two knuckleheads caused. And then, we’re having a _long_ talk about this.”

I walked away, mind still seething, but only concerned about Stan.

 

X

 

Arriving back at the Shack, I cursed when I noticed the car wasn’t there.

“Damn it Stan!” I kicked the porch petulantly, wincing as my still recovering ankle threatened to buckle under my weight.

I sat on the step heavily.

At least Stanley hadn’t done anything rash... like coming back here and starting another fist fight with Ford.

Ford.

At just the thought of him, my blood boiled. What had he been thinking?

Gritting my teeth, I stood and stormed inside the Shack.

I continued through the house and into the desolate gift shop, my rage at Ford’s incompetence propelling my feet as fast as they could go down to the basement.

“Sorry Dipper. I can’t help you any further with Stanley. I’m rather busy.” Ford spoke over his shoulder when he heard me.

“Is mind control your idea of help?” I snapped.

Ford jumped as if electrocuted, spinning around in his chair before leaping to his feet.

“Carla!”

“What the hell were you thinking? Giving a 12-year old that kind of power? And why did you even have that tie?” I ranted, storming over. “Seriously!”

Ford quailed slightly under my onslaught.

“Well?” I demanded, folding my arms, “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Ford regained some of his composure.

“I believed it to be for the best-”

“The best? You thought taking away Stan’s free will and letting two 12-year olds put words in his mouth was for the best?!”

“We both know that if left unchecked, Stanley’s mouth will land everyone in trouble. He needed controlling.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” I stared, gobsmacked at Ford’s attitude, “Talking about controlling your brother like it’s nothing! What about how Stan would feel? What about morality and ethics? God, Stanford! You can’t just pull a stunt like this - ”

“Morality and ethics? You want to discuss morality and ethics while you’re married to Stanley? He’s a wanted criminal and is banned in more than half the states of the US!”

“I never said Stan was innocent, but he knows the goddamn difference between right and wrong. And he’s never pulled something as brainless and half-baked as this!” I fumed.

“I agree. Running for Mayor was brainless.” Ford said, whip-like. I gaped at him.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I mean, what on Earth possessed you to-”

Ford blanched at my words, face paling as his mouth open and closed soundlessly.

"N-no – No, not now. Can’t – can’t breathe, don’t touch me! Don't, please! No! Don’t hurt - ” He stumbled back, eyes wide and staring at some invisible assailant as I watched, anger giving way to shock. Ford’s heel struck his chair and he lost his footing, falling back and hitting the floor as the chair skidded away.

“Not- not now, I can’t – I can’t... No!” Ford cried out as he shuffled backwards from me, hunched in on himself.

I ran over and dropped by his side in an instant. I’d never seen Ford look so scared.

“Ford? Ford? Hey, hey! It’s ok, I’m sorry, I didn’t - ” I reached a hand out to him and Ford recoiled violently with a cry, eyes averted from mine.

“Ok, ok. Jesus.” I leaned back on my heels and tried to think. I’d seen this behaviour before, from Stan. There’d been several times in the past where he would wake up screaming from nightmares like this. I’d have to do my best to calm Ford down, just like I’d done for Stan.

“Ford? Just- just try and take a deep breath for me ok?”

Ford was shaking and pulling at his sweater agitatedly as he sucked in a breath, exhaling slowly.

“Good. Now another.” I instructed gently, Ford complying as his eyes darted around anxiously.

“Ok. Is it alright to hold your hand?” I asked, waiting until Ford nodded to reach out and take one of his hands. Ford took another shaky breath as I linked our fingers loosely.

“Thank you. I was getting worried you might ruin your sweater.”

Ford snorted, breath hitching as a shudder ran through him. I rubbed my thumb over the back of his hand soothingly.

“It’s alright. You’re ok, you’re safe here. Just keep taking nice even breaths for me.”

Ford nodded absently, uncurling slightly as his breathing began to soften. I waited quietly, occasionally rubbing the back of his hand or making soothing noises.

“I- I’m sorry,” Ford eventually said, resting his free hand over mine.

“It’s ok,” I dismissed, leaning back as Ford straightened up to lean back against the desk. “To be honest, I almost expected something like this at some point. I mean, if you’d came back through that portal without issues, then Id’ be worried.”

Ford gave me a wry smile.

“Do- do those issues excuse me giving Dipper a mind control tie?”

“Absolutely not. I still have half a mind to slap that tie on you and make you do the Stan Wrong song, but that would be immoral and wrong.” I raised an eyebrow at a now much calmer Ford. “See? See how I used my adult brain not to use mind control against a defenceless person? You see how easy that is?”

Ford rolled his eyes, still smiling, and climbed unsteadily to his feet. I stood up alongside him, still gripping his hand.

“Does Stanley know?” Ford asked quietly, a mixture of emotion on his face.

“Yes. Dipper blurted it out to both of us when Stan refused to wear the tie,” I paused, still thinking over what might have caused Ford’s panic, “Ford?”

“Mmm?”

I hesitated, torn between needing to know more, but not wanting to cause Ford anymore distress.

“Before, when I mentioned possession,” Ford shuddered but managed to keep his eyes focused on mine, “was your reaction because of something Bill Cipher did to you?”

Ford breathed in sharply,  hands curling and beginning to shake again.

“Ah, he- No, not exact-”he stammered, before being cut off by the noise of a large explosion above us.

The ground shook, dust raining down from the ceiling.

Years of living in Gravity Falls with the unpredictable had honed my intuition. I was even willing to bet I knew exactly who would have caused that explosion. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done something that crazy to get out of a difficult situation either.

I raced from the basement, only thinking about Stanley and leaving Ford behind me.

 

“Mrs Pines! Carla!” Soos screeched to a halt by the shack as I ran out the front door. “You gotta come quick!”

“What’s he done this time?” I asked, climbing into the truck as Soos started to drive back down the driveway.

“Hey! How’d you know?”

“Soos!”

“Heh, alright. So I was at the elections right? And I don’t know how I got there right? So I’m just standing there, freaking out, when like, Mabel and Dipper, they’re suddenly dangling from a rope out of the nose of that new mayor statue and then Stan’s all like, RAWR!, and rips the arms off his jacket like some sort of super strong hero!” Soos started to re-enact it and I leaned across, alarmed.

“Wheel Soos!”

“Oh right. Anyway, Stan screamed “I gotta go save my family!” and just started climbing the mountain! With his bare hands! He’s like a superhero.”

“What about the explosion?” I realised that there were SO many other questions, but I was most concerned about the potentially life-threatening part.

“I dunno. When I saw the twins, and Stan climbing, I thought you should be there.”

I groaned quietly, spotting the smoke coming from the town.

“Just get us there fast Soos.”

“Yes ma’m!”

 

When we arrived at the debate site, I scrambled from the truck and stared at the devastation up on the mountainside.

Half of it was missing, and what was left was molten.

“They were up there?” I asked Soos, heart freezing. No one could’ve survived that.

“Wait! Carla, dude! Look!” Soos laid a hand on my shoulder and pointed at the partially destroyed stage.

Standing there was a bemused looking Stan with the twins, clothes ragged and smoking slightly.

“Stanley.” I whispered quietly and started to push through the throng of stunned locals in an attempt to get to the stage.

“Hey! That’s Carla Pines! Let her through!” Manly Dan’s strident voice boomed over the crowd, people turning to stare at me before moving to the side.

A few people reacted slowly, Manly Dan leaning over and picking them out of my way easily.

“Go on Mrs Mayor.” He said politely, holding a squirming townsperson under his arm.

Wait, Mrs _MAYOR_?!

Now that a path had opened up for me, I wasted no time in rushing toward the stage.

Tyler Cutebiker was standing by the stage steps. As I approached, he smiled and nodded towards Stan.

“Get ‘im.” He said as I hurried up the steps, Stan meeting me at the top.

“Carla!”

“Stan!”

As Stan reached out for me, I shoved him lightly in reprimand.

“Can you go one week without giving me a heart attack?!”

Before a stunned Stan could reply, I grabbed him by the lapels of his ruined jacket and dragged him forward, smashing my lips against his as the crowd cheered madly.

“Mayor Pines! Mayor Pines! Mayor Pines!”

Stan and I broke apart as fireworks began to explode overhead, the twins ambling over to join us.

“Well, guess we know who won.” Dipper smiled as he and Mabel hugged Stan tightly.

 

X

 

Later, I was dishing out a plate of casserole to leave in the oven for Ford when I heard Mabel, Dipper and Stan all yell in the front room.

Running into the front room, I caught the tail end of the report on the news.

“- disqualify him due to the discovery of an extensive criminal record.”

“Oh boy.” Stan muttered as I rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Looks like they finally caught onto you.” I smiled as Mabel turned to us with wide eyes.

“Stan, what did you do?”

“What didn’t I do?” Stan asked with a shrug as Shandra Jimenez began to list his crimes.

“- shoplifting, teaching bears to drive, a new crime he invented called “burglebezzlement”, first-degree llamacide, -”

“I don’t remember the llama...” I muttered.

“That llama knew too much.” Stan shook his fist slightly. “He had to go.”

“Oh look! Tyler won the Mayorship!” Mabel pointed excitedly at the screen.

We all watched the screen as Tyler was handed the Mayor’s sash and flowers.

“Good for him.” I smiled as the screen flicked back to Shandra.

“We will dedicate the rest of this broadcast to listing Stan’s crimes.” A large stack of papers was placed in front of her. “First-degree thermometer theft. Pug trafficking - ”

A fast moving list suddenly began to roll up the screen. I managed to read a few of them.

Pickpocketting. General Indeccency. Bingo Fraud.

Stan clicked the tv off with a relived sigh.

“Whew! At least they didn’t list any of the bad ones. On an unrelated topic, I have a lot of cheap pugs and I need to move them fast.”

“Aw, I’m sorry Stan.” Dipper turned just as I cuffed the back of Stan’s head. “I actually think you as Mayor would’ve been fun.”

“Eh, maybe it’s for the best.” Stan smiled, linking his fingers with mine. “I got close to the dream though kids.”

Stan moved to kneel between the twins, accidently tugging me with him. I caught Mabel’s eye and nodded. She reached behind her and coughed for Stan’s attention.

“I made you something,” Mabel revealed a knitted sash that proclaimed “Our Hero”, carefully placing it on Stan’s lap. “It’s not official, but I think it fits.”

Stan stared down at the sash, face growing solemn as he traced a finger over the words. He sniffed slightly.

“Grunkle Stan, a-are you crying?” Dipper asked, looking worried.

I squeezed Stan’s hand and his head shot up, eyes darting around wildly.

“Wha- no! I- I just got campaign confetti in my eyes!” Stan stood, letting go of my hand to pull the sash on with a faint smile. “Come on kids! Wanna go vandalize Mayor Tyler’s mansion?”

The twins jumped to their feet, pulling me up with them.

“Yay!” Mabel cheered.

“He-hey, vandalism!” Dipper’s cheer was laced with some trepidation but he followed his siter out of the front room regardless.

“Go on without me,” I chuckled, “I’ll catch up with you later to pay the bail money.”

Sta grinned and made to follow the twins, but I reached out and stopped  him by grabbing his wrist.

“What’s the wife of a hero called?” I asked, smile tugging at my mouth. Stan shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Er, I dunno. A hero-ess? A heroin?”

I covered his mouth with a hand and roll of my eyes.

“No. Proud.” I answered.

Stan stared at me for a moment before snorting in amusement.

“That’s so cheesy Carla.” He moved my hand, but I saw the flash of pride in his eyes.

“You love it.” I smiled as Stan leaned in to peck my cheek.

“Yeah, yeah.”

We walked toward the back door and I suddenly remembered something.

“Oh! Stan,”

Stan turned to look at me, one hand resting against the back door.

“Thanks for getting the light bulbs.”

The wide beam Stan gave me before dashing after Mabel and Dipper, inflated my heart.

Heading into the kitchen, I grabbed the local phone book and flicked through it to the right page.

“Might as well warn our new Mayor,” I murmured, reaching for the phone. “who knows? Maybe there’s still time for Shandra to add Mayoral Vandalism to the end of the news.”


	24. August 2012 - A 40-Year Old Truce

August 2012

 

“Ya sure ya wanna stay alone with him?” Stan asked, glancing back at the Shack with worry.

“Would you rather he lock us out while we’re gone? Besides, how bad could he be?” I said with a reassuring smile.

“Do I have to answer that?” Stan replied with a sceptical look just as Mabel came running around the corner of the rented motor home, followed by her two friends, Grenda and Candy.

“WOOHOO! ROAD TRIP!” Mabel screamed, throwing her hands in the air as she did a little dance. “Let’s hit the trail people!”

“Yeah! I’m so excited!” Grenda yelled.

“Are you accompanying us Mrs Pines?” Candy asked, pushing her glasses up.

“No sweetheart, I’m not. What with you three, Dipper, Soos _and_ Mr Pines, I don’t think I’d fit!” I smiled and patted the young girl’s head kindly.

The girl’s were momentarily distracted as Dipper joined us, Soos ambling up behind him.

“Right. Here, sign these waivers,” Stan handed both Candy and Grenda a sheet of paper, “None of ya parents are lawyers are they?”

I rolled my eyes above their heads, Stan grinning shamelessly when he caught my expression.

Luckily, the girls didn’t question it, charging ahead into the motor home.

“I guess we’ll see you in a couple of days Grauntie Carla,” Dipper smiled, “have fun with the shop, and you know... the basement.” He added in an awkward whisper before following his sister and her friends.

“Thanks hon, take care ok?” I waved after him.

“See ya later dude.” Soos went to walk past with a respectful nod, but I stopped him in his tracks to hug him tightly.

“You look after those kids ok? And don’t let Stan do anything too crazy.” I whispered loudly to Soos before pecking his cheek sweetly.

“No promises.” Stan grumbled as Soos moved away, cheeks flushed and a dopey grin on his face.

“Sure thing Mrs Pines. You have my word.” Soos replied, adjusting the brim of his cap.

“Good boy. See you tomorrow evening.” I patted his arm gently before turning back to Stan.

“Just promise me you’ll stop short of biological warfare, ok?” I asked with a grin as Stan wrapped his arms around me.

“Yeah, yeah. Ya sure you won’t come with us?” Stan asked as I hugged him back tightly.

“Do you really want to leave him alone in the shack?”

“I suppose not.” Stan sighed.

“Also, you better not let any of those kids get hurt just because you have a grudge to settle.” I warned as Stan let go of me.

“Like I’d ever.” Stan grinned before kissing my forehead.

“I mean it. I want ALL of them back safely, in one piece.”

“Geez Carla, ya acting like I’m hopeless.” Stan grumbled.

“I’m sorry. It’s just, you can be a _bit_ competitive with those other tourist traps.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this babe. They’ll be safe.” Stan reassured, ducking his head to kiss me sweetly. Closing my eyes, I tried to assuage the worries in my head about Stan taking the kids on a revenge trip around the other tourist traps of Oregon.

“Oooh Oooooh!” A chorus of high pitched (and one low pitched) voices came from the window of the motor home.

Stan groaned and turned back to the vehicle with a scowl on his face.

“Will you lot knock it off?” He said sternly. Mabel and her friends giggled, ducking back inside.

I laughed and rested my hand on Stan’s arms.

“And you’ve got that for the next two days. You sure you don’t want to stay behind?” I teased. Stan pulled a face.

“Urgh. Maybe Soos could do it...”

“No way mister. You said you’d take them. You’re not getting out of it.” I laughed. “Go on, you guys better get going. I love you hon.” I said, still smiling as I reached up on tiptoe to peck Stan on the cheek.

“Alright, alright. I love ya too babe. Have fun with the old place.” Stan winked as he climbed into the motor home.

I waved at Dipper sitting in the passenger seat as Stan started the engine, the motor home starting it’s lurching drive away from the house.

“Please be safe.” I whispered as they slowly vanished from sight.

 

X

 

Despite telling the kids I’d be staying behind to keep the museum and shop open, I’d immediately vetoed that idea when I realised I wouldn’t have Wendy to help me. Not to mention the long awaited torture of stocktaking... Needless to say, time passed slowly for me as I made my way through restocking the shelves. I’d gotten far too used to having Soos or Wendy around.

I’d just finished lining Mr Mystery bobble heads along the their shelf when I heard the pop and hiss of the old hydraulics behind the vending machine.

Straightening with a faint smile, I rested my hands on the small of my back and stretched as the sound of heavy footsteps entered the gift shop.

“Oh. I-I’m sorry, sorry. Didn’t realise, I- ah, I’ll just go and, leave you too it.” Ford stammered out an apology.

“No need. I think I’m done for now.” I dismissed, picking up the empty box and walking over to the counter. “Or at least, I’m sick of staring at over priced crap for now.” I smiled as I faced the other person in the room.

Ford was watching me warily, fidgeting with his extra finger absently. It was still strange seeing him so old, yet still very clearly the young boy I’d known previously.

“Still. I-I don’t want to bother you. Or the kids.” Ford swapped fiddling with his fingers to fiddle with his glasses, still not quite looking at me.

“Today’s your lucky day, there’s only me here. Stan took all the kids on a road trip , remember?”

“Oh. Was that today? Just how long have I been down there?” Ford frowned, looking back at the vending machine.

I tried not to laugh.

“Awhile. You hungry?” I asked, checking my watch. “It is time for lunch.”

Ford immediately retreated in on himself.

“I, er, n-no. I might just go an-” he blustered uselessly.

I crossed my arms and tapped my foot, something that never failed to get Stan to listen to me. And it seemed Ford was no exception.

“Stanford,” I caught his attention easily this time, his eyes finally meeting mine for the first time in days, “you look exhausted and I’m going to guess you haven’t eaten for quite some time. You are not slipping away downstairs until I’ve seen you eat something.”

“Carla, this is ridiculous. I’m not a child.” Ford protested weakly.

“Then don’t act like one.” I retorted breezily, still keeping him pinned in front of me.

Ford dropped his eyes, removing his glasses to rub his eyes with an annoyed huff. I hoped I hadn’t been too pushy. I didn’t want to start another argument after what had happened after the mayoral elections... but was it really too much to ask for him to eat something?

Ford had apparently being having the same thoughts.

“Fine. I suppose it may be nice to eat with company.” Ford gradually acquiesced. I smiled, letting out a breath I hadn’t even realised I was holding.

“Great. God knows what we’ll be eating though. Mabel said she left us sandwiches,” I walked over and snagged Ford’s arm, tugging him after me as I walked into the house. “if they’re anything like her other culinary experiments, we may be better off eating what’s in the vending machine. And don’t even ask me about her Mabel juice.”

Ford chuckled, allowing me to steer him into the kitchen.

“I haven’t quite been brave enough to try that yet,” Ford said with a faint smile, “I’ve eaten some strange and unusual things in my life, but never glitter and plastic dinosaurs.”

“Don’t forget the horrendous amount of sugar,” I shuddered, “She’s definitely Stan’s great-niece.”

Ford stood awkwardly in the kitchen for a moment before making the decision to reach into the fridge as I drew two glasses of water for us.

Pulling out the plastic wrapped plate, Ford sat at the table and watched as I settled across from him.

“They look safe enough.” He offered as I began to unwrap the sandwiches.

“Don’t be fooled, she hides the glitter between the lunch meats.” I warned.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Ford sounded amused as I cautiously checked the sandwiches.

“Well, we have dubious flavour choices, but no glitter.” I offered the plate to Ford, “Pickle and mustard, or chocolate spread with cheese?”

Ford pulled a face, seeming to settle a little more in his chair.

“Not pickle. Can’t eat pickles anymore.” He said, picking on of the other sandwiches. I took a pickle/mustard concoction and leaned back in my chair, watching Ford.

“Sounds like a story.” I hinted, taking a bite out of the sandwich.

Ford lost any sense of ease, coughing through his mouthful as his face flushed. I waited as he covered his mouth and managed to swallow his food.

“Oh, ah. It’s, it’s not an interesting story.” Ford tried. I grinned at him.

“Oh no mister. You don’t get out of it that easy. Come on, one story. Please?”

Ford placed his half-eaten sandwich on the plate with a sigh and sat back in resignation. I leaned forward eagerly, glad that Ford wasn’t just shutting down this time.

“A friend of mine, well, more of an occasional acquaintance really, he, ah... well, long story short, he transferred his consciousness into a pickle. Don’t think he ever said why... but it’s pretty hard to look at a pickle now without seeing it scream at me with his voice.” Ford pulled a face at the memory.

I stared, sandwich halfway to my mouth.

“I’m sorry, did you say a pickle with a human mind? What?” I slowly put my sandwich down, eyeing the slice of pickle in it suspiciously.

“He’s a genius. Or just incredibly lucky...” Ford shrugged nonchalantly, “mostly he’s just drunk.”

“Well. I think I’m done.” I nudged the sandwich plate back towards Ford as he finished off his first sandwich. “But your friend sound like a riot.”

“Occasional acquaintance.” Ford corrected.

“Did you travel with him at any point in the portal?” I asked, daring to push my luck.

Ford stared down at the table, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Carla...” He started.

“Still not ready huh?” I asked, knowing the answer already.

Ford scratched the back of his hand with an apologetic expression, opening his mouth but I waved him into silence.

“I get it. But you’ll tell me one day,” I leaned back, “you can bet on it.”

“You may not like what you hear.”

“That’s for me to decide.” I smiled, getting to my feet. There was a screech of chairs being pushed back as Ford copied me.

He hovered awkwardly as I moved around the kitchen, grabbing an extra plate from the cupboards.

“Here,” I placed the last cheese and chocolate sandwich on the plate and pushed a fresh glass of water into Ford’s hands. “You still haven’t eaten enough, but I’ve made you endure enough social interaction for one day. You can scurry back to the basement now.” I teased lightly. Ford gave me a sheepish grin, an expression that made him look years younger, before leaving the kitchen.

As I started to clear away what was left of Mabel’s sandwiches, I heard Ford come back and place his plate and glass on the counter. I sighed.

“Seriously Ford? Just take the food with you. You don’t even have to eat it if you really don’t want to, but at least yo-”

I was cut off by Ford suddenly and awkwardly wrapping an arm around my shoulder and squeezing slightly.

“Thanks Carla.” He said quietly, releasing me and grabbing his food, leaving before I could reply in any form.

Not that I was able to.

I was stunned by Ford’s sudden display of genuine kindness. Maybe I was getting somewhere with him...

 

X

 

Later that night, I found myself unable to concentrate on the embroidery project I had been trying to work on. After two months of two young kids running around the house, it was now eerily quiet. And I found myself missing Stan terribly. How long had it been since we’d spent a night in separate places?

Huffing, I lowered my embroidery to the arm of the recliner before stretching out a foot and scratched Waddles’ stomach lightly.

“Missing them too buddy?” I asked, my voice seeming to echo in the room.

Waddles snorted and wriggled in response.

“Yeah. It’s not the same without them.” I replied.

It was true.

God, I was missing Stan... I was so used to sitting here and listening him grumble about the crap on TV, just the sound of his voice and warmth of his arm around me enough to keep me there all night...

I’d turned the TV on anyway, but I had it on so quietly, I may as well have muted it. Which only served to highlight how quiet the house was.

Suddenly, the shrill ringing of the phone in the kitchen pierced the silence.

Jumping, I accidently brought my foot down too hard against Waddles and he oinked indignantly.

“Sorry sweet pig.” I apologised as I hurried to grab the phone.

“Hello? Carla Pines speaking.” I answered in a rush.

“Geez baby, ya ok there?” Stan’s voice was a welcome surprise on the other end of the line.

“So much better for hearing your voice.” I schmoozed, leaning against the wall with a smile, “How are you? Are the kids ok?”

“Fine, fine. All alive.” Stan said breezily.

“For now. Tell Mabel her sandwiches were lovely. Her Grunkle Ford even ate one.”

“No kidding? Ford actually ate something? And ya saw him do it?” Stan seemed doubtful.

“Yup. Ate the whole thing and took a second downstairs.”

“Huh. Seems ya having more luck with him than me.”

I heard the slight downcast sound to Stan’s voice and shook my head at the wallpaper.

“Must be my charm and beauty.” I teased, hoping to get a laugh from him. Stan didn’t disappoint.

“Hah! Keep wearing him down sugar.”

“You got it. Are the kids having fun?”

“Mabel and her friends are off screaming about something, but Dipper, oh man! Dipper!” Stan enthused.

“What? What happened? Is he ok?” I asked, mind spinning frantically.

“He’s a babe magnet! That’s what!” Stan sounded so proud.

I slumped, covering my eyes with a groan.

“What have you been teaching him Stan?”

“Just my tested and proved 3 C’s of dating!” Stan bluffed.

“What 3 C’s?”

“Confidence, charm and some other thing that starts with C... comedy I think, wait a minute, let me think about that...”

“Stanley, have any of those ever worked for you?” I interrupted, smiling.

“Hey! I got you didn’t I?”

“Only because you eavesdropped on a private conversation! And even then, I kissed you first!”

“Ah, but it took confidence to strip down and go swimming!”

Alright, alright Pines.” I admitted, still smiling widely at the wall, “How were the attractions?”

“Successfully pranked. Ya shoulda seen their faces!”

“I imagine I will if they come looking for revenge, again.”

“Not gonna happen.” They know it was all in fun.” Stan assured.

“Hope they feel the same way.” I muttered, hearing a distant creak. I paused, tucking the phone into the crook of my neck as Stan warbled on about his so-called pranks.

“Waddles?” I called, expecting him to trot around the door. Nothing. Frowning, I pressed the phone to my ear again.

“You ok Carla?”

“Sorry, just thought I heard Waddles moving around.” I excused.

“Uh oh, Mabel’s coming. I gotta go.”

“Wait! Not yet. It’s too quiet without you guys here.” I pleaded, feeling that longing more strongly than before.

“You missing me huh? Needing someone to keep ya warm at night?” Stan said suggestively and I snorted.

“Not anymore you pig... But you will be back tomorrow afternoon right?”

Stan’s low chuckle sent butterflies through me.

“Absolutely baby. You’ll see me soon.”

“I’ll hold you too that. Stay safe.”

“No promises. Look after the nerd for me.”

“I love you Stanley.”

“I love you too baby.” Stan said softly.

“HI GRAUNTIE CARLA!” Mabel’s voice screamed from the background suddenly.

I heard a brief tussle between Stan and Mabel before the line went dead with a click.

I stayed where I was, still pressing the receiver to my ear, for a moment longer before replacing it back in the cradle with a sad smile.

The longing deepened into a hollow, cold feeling in my stomach.

Pulling myself together with a sigh, I shook my head and walked toward the doorway.

“They’ll be back tomorrow.” I muttered to myself right before walking into something solid just outside the kitchen.

“Arrgh!”

“Sorry!”

Two large hands steadied me before I could fall. I looked up.

“Oh. It’s you.” I smiled. “Hello.”

Ford took a step back as I straightened my sweater.

“What can I help you with?” I asked, wondering what had brought him upstairs like this.

“I thought, well, I wondered, maybe,” Ford sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “would it be alright if I joined you up here?”

I was stunned.

Having lunch with Ford had been a rare occurrence. Now he was going out of his way to ACTUALLY spend time with me.

“Of course.” I tried not to sound too eager. “But only if it doesn’t involve more unicorn blood or any squishy octopus-like creatures again.”

Ford’s eyes actually lit up as he smiled.

“I promise. I’ll, I’ll just, ah, I’ll just go and get my, right, yes.” Ford babbled intelligibly before dashing away. To get something from the basement I presumed.

Sitting back in the old recliner, I scratched Waddles on the head.

“We have special company tonight buddy.” I whispered, just as Ford came back holding his journal.

So not the basement then... wait, had he brought that up before asking me? Who was this person making himself comfortable at the table?

Ford gave me a shy smile before flicking his journal open to a fresh page and beginning to write with a pen and ink he’d produced from somewhere. Within seconds, Ford had lost himself in his work, the calm pace of his writing descending into frenzied scribbling.

Strangely enough, the sound of his pen nib scratching across the pages was oddly comforting.

Smiling to myself, I picked my embroidery back up and began to stitch again.

After a while of working in silence and just enjoying the comfort of having someone else in the room, I heard the pause in Ford’s writing.

“You still embroider?” He asked, voice breaking the stillness.

“Mm? Oh. Yes, it keeps these old hands busy.” I pulled a thread through the fabric. “You still draw?” I asked back.

“Yes. I’ve gotten much better.” Ford began writing again, much slower this time.

“Hard to imagine, you were always such a good artist.” I smiled. Ford just huffed and I placed my embroidery back down. Walking over to the table, I sat in the chair next to Ford and leaned over his arm, aware of his sudden jerk to the side as I invaded his personal space. Correcting myself, I drew back as I read what he was writing.

“The True Theory of Weirdness? Is that the other name for Gravity Falls?” I teased as I watched Ford draw a doodle of himself standing at the top of a small hill.

“Hah. It could be. No, I was explaining it to Mas- Dipper yesterday.”

“Oh, so that’s what you two were doing.” I propped my chin in my hand as Ford continued to write. “Stan was a little put out.”

“I fail to see why,” Ford bristled, “I’m perfectly capable of looking after my great nephew.”

“I don’t think that’s what he was upset by.” I said carefully, knowing full well this could lead us into another argument. Something I was keen to avoid.

“Then help me out Carla. Because I don’t understand it and trust me, admitting that stings for a genius.” Ford scowled and I almost laughed.

“He’s just upset that Dipper seems to be clinging to your trench coat at the moment, following you everywhere, idolizing you... Stan feels like he’s being pushed to the side for something better. And he loves those kids.” I said softly, desperately hoping Ford wouldn’t say anything we’d both regret.

“Well, I mean, I am the REAL Stanford Pines,” Ford said sulkily, “you could say I’m just being his great uncle that he thought he knew about. I can’t help it if Stanley and I lived different lives.”

“Just try not to take Dipper into any life threatening situations.” I asked. “Stan and I would really appreciate that.”

Ford made a noncommittal sound and looked down at his journal again, twirling his pen in his fingers. It felt like there was something between us, something unsaid and lingering... What wasn’t Ford telling me?

“What is it Ford?” I asked.

“I don’t understand my brother anymore.” Ford eventually said, each word carefully chosen and no doubt different from what had been in his head. “I used to be able to predict his every move, know his motivation for everything. But not now. Why?”

“What do you want me to say Ford?” I sighed. “You’ve been gone for 30 years. Stan and I built a life here. We grew up. None of us are the same as we were in high school.”

Ford sighed and pushed his glasses up to rub his eyes.

“You’re right about that. How are the children?” He asked, rapidly changing the subject.

“Having fun apparently. And no one’s been hurt, so that’s a bonus.” I joked, hoping to get away from the gloomy subject of the past. “For now at least.”

“You miss Stanley a lot, don’t you?” Ford asked, throwing me again with a shift in conversation.

“Well, yes. We’ve hardly been apart since ’82. It’s strange not having him here.”

“You haven’t been apart this long for 30 years?” Ford’s face went curiously blank as he processed the information.

“Maybe once or twice. But, once I got him back, I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him go again.” I smiled softly, looking down at my wedding ring. Ford mirrored my action.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Ford sighed, running a hand through already mussed hair.

“Always have. And he loves me.” I was still confused by Ford’s apparent lack of belief in mine and Stan’s relationship. As if it was just another scam... which in a way, it was. But Ford didn’t need to know that yet. “Why do you think we’ve been living and working together for 30 years?”

“I, I don’t know... I didn’t really think about it after I left home.” Ford admitted, staring at the table as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Old feelings of hurt and anger stirred in my stomach adn I tried not to let them show.

This was one of the longest conversations I’d shared with Ford since he came back. I really didn’t want to say anything that might lead to another argument, ending up with Ford storming off to the basement to hide and leaving me here alone again.

 However, I couldn’t resist just one tiny, little jab. Old anger is hard to ignore after you’ve carefully cultivated and nurtured it for so long.

“Stan thought about you. All the time. You were never far from his mind. Even when he was starving on the streets. And every June 15th, he wished you a happy birthday first.”

Ford fiddled with his pen, his work all but forgotten, as a myriad of expressions crossed his face.

“Guess I really don’t know him anymore.” He eventually said.

His tone of voice made my heart flutter hopefully.

“But you have time to get to know him again. You’re both here, why not try?” I pushed, fingers crossing under the table.

But Ford’s next words dashed any hope I’d allowed myself to have.

“It’s been too long Carla.” Ford sighed. “And he’s done so much damage to this world! I can’t just ignore that! He could’ve destroyed the Earth!”

Anger on Stan’s behalf flared and I patted Ford’s hand with a tight smile.

“But who built that portal and brought that threat here in the first place?” I asked, getting to my feet and moving away before he could respond.

“It’s getting late Ford. I’m going to bed. Try to remember to sleep.” I called after me as I turned the TV off, leaving the room with Waddles trotting after me.

Heading up the stairs, I shook my head.

One step forward, another two back.

 

X

 

The next morning I woke up in an empty bed, curled over on Stan’s side of the bed.

Burying my head into his pillow, I wished more than ever that he was here. I didn’t want to go downstairs and have to wander around the house by myself after the disappointing end to my conversation with Ford last night. Surely, Ford would go out of his way to avoid me now.

Waddles suddenly surprised me, climbing up onto the bed and nudging my shoulder.

“Hey buddy. Have a good sleep?” I yawned.

Waddles snorted and began to chew the ends of my hair.

“Ok, ok. Time for breakfast. Come on.” I sighed and sat up.

Waddles nuzzled my hand with an oink and hopped off the bed, trotting towards the door.

Following, I took Stan’s old bath robe off the back of the door. Walking down the stairs, securing the robe around me, I realised I could smell something cooking.

Immediately suspicious, I hurried to the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks.

Ford, FORD, was standing by the range, cooking eggs?

“Good morning. There’s toast on the table.” Ford said, not turning.

“I can see that. This is a surprise.” I commented, a smile creeping onto my face as I sat at the table. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you after our conversation last night.”

“Ah. Well, I thought about it, and while you weren’t exactly right, you also weren’t wrong. So take this morning as my attempt at an apology for being an ass.” Ford gave me a crooked grin as he brought the pan of scrambled eggs to the table.

I just stared, even as Ford dished out the eggs and poured our coffee.

“Carla?” Ford was fidgeting with his extra finger as he waited for my reaction. I shook my head slightly and shot him a sly smile.

“I’m sorry, was that Stanford Pines admitting he’d been an ass?” I jibed, accepting the plate Ford offered me. He chuckled as he sat opposite me.

“Enjoy it while it lasts. You’ll never hear me admit it again.”

“Didn’t think I would ever see you again, let alone hear you say **anything** , so I think I will savour this moment.” I began to eat with a smile, occasionally dropping toast down to Waddles.

A surprisingly comfortable silence fell in the kitchen.

While there was still plenty of question I wanted to ask Ford, I found myself just enjoying the simple act of sharing a meal with him. It felt like a taste of the past, when we would end up sitting at the beach and share food while waiting for Stan to be let out of detention.

“When do the children get back?” Ford asked, his voice startling me out of my memories.

“Later this afternoon, supposedly.” I scraped the rest of the eggs onto my plate before setting the plate down for Waddles.

“So what will you do until them?” Ford stood and whisked away the dirtied dishes.

I watched him start to wash the dishes, smiling before deciding to test whether he would still lie to me about the small things.

“The shop needs to be restocked still. Someone destroyed an entire shelf of merchandise...” I said innocently, watching Ford’s shoulders stiffen.

“They were idiotic! Burpin’ Stanford Pines! What was Stanley thinking?” Ford protested, admitting his crime without me even having to push hard. “It was insulting!”

“Oh, I never said I liked them. They certainly weren’t one of Stan’s better ideas.” I soothed, “In fact, I’m on your side. I’m glad you burnt them. Means I don’t have to think up of a nasty ‘accident’ for them.”

For a moment, the only noise was the swish of water over the dishes and the occasional clink as Ford placed them on the drying board.

“Uh, Carla? How’d you know about that?” Ford eventually asked guiltily.

“Gompers saved a partially destroyed one. I figured there was only one other person here who’d want them dead as much as me.”

“Ah. Can- can I help in the shop? Since I caused the restocking issue of course.” Ford seemed to be very focused on the dishes... could he be really trying to extend the olive branch here?

I wasn’t sure I could keep this up for too long.

There was still anger at Ford swirling below the surface, and any tiny chance it got, it would lash out. I didn’t want to ruin these small moments of peace with an argument... But we couldn’t move on with our past still buried... I decided to try and put some distance between us once more, for our own sakes.

“You don’t have to Ford,” I tried to sound carefree about it, “I managed to do a fair bit yesterday. Shouldn’t take long to finish it off.”

“Oh, alright then.” Ford sounded strangely flat. Was he disappointed? Hadn’t he been the one who wanted to hide away in the basement?

“But tell you what, I’ll come down and find you for lunch again. Sound good?” I added, trying to bring back a little bit of hope.

Ford finally turned, a half-smile on his face.

“I suppose I do have a few things that could benefit from an uninterrupted morning of work.” He said. “And it would be irresponsible of me to miss lunch yet again.”

“There you go then.” I smiled and stood. “Off you go to do your work and I’ll try and come up with something for lunch that can match Mabel’s culinary expertise.”

Ford chuckled.

“Sounds like quite the challenge.”

“You have no idea.”

Ford glanced around the kitchen and gave a curt nod.

“Well, I guess I will see you later then.” Ford sounded hopeful, almost like the 17-year old boy I’d known all those years ago.

“Absolutely.” I grabbed his hand as Ford went to leave the kitchen. “Thanks for breakfast Pines.”

Ford’s face split into an unexpected grin.

“Not a problem Tiny.” He replied with a squeeze of my hand before walking from the kitchen, a pink tinge just showing on his cheeks.

“Nice to have you back.” I whispered after his receding footsteps, hope entering my heart again for the first time since Ford had returned home.

 

X

 

I checked my watch as I stepped out of the elevator. Slightly late for lunch, but I was sure Ford wouldn’t even notice. Speaking of Ford...

I could hear Ford talking to himself as I approached.

“... probably not a good idea. She wouldn’t understand, who would?If I tell her, she could be in danger... Bill could, no. No. I can’t let it happen. Damn fool Stanford Pines! You shouldn’t have talked to her after last night. Would it have been so hard just to stay down here? No, you had to do something to try and win her over again, didn’t you? Stupid, stupid... can’t fix this...”

Alarmed at the implication of his words, I knocked on the side of the metal door frame.

“Ford?”

Ford spun round, mutterings cut short and a wild look in his eye.

I found myself holding my hands up out of instinct.

“Carla!” Ford immediately eased, running a hand down his jaw. “Ah, how long were you there? What did you hear?”

I hesitated. Probably not a good time to bring up Ford’s paranoia.

“Nothing you didn’t want me too.” I offered with a soft smile. Ford sighed, body finally slumping in his chair.

“I- I wish I could tell you more, I know it must be strange, unsettling even! But, but it’s just too dangerous to involve you. I know I keep saying that, but I need you to-”

“Trust you.” I finished, “And I suppose I can understand that. And be ok with it... For now. You have to realise that I’m not exactly stupid. I knew you were being tormented by Bill,” I held up a hand as Ford flinched, “and I’m not going to press you for more. But I want you to know that I still care for, so does Stan, even if it doesn’t feel like it. We’re both just glad to finally have you back. You’re  still family, even after all this time.”

Ford blinked owlishly at me for a moment, seemingly teetering on the edge of a decision.

“Carla, I...” Ford narrowed his eyes and shifted to the side to focus on a screen. “There are people approaching the house. They look mad.”

Taking my own look at the screen, I groaned.

“Stan’s been making friends again. They’re the owners of the other tourist attraction owners. This happens every year.” I walked into the room with a frustrated sigh. “I should just start refusing to let him go on those road trips.”

Ford stared at me in confusion.

“I understand none of this.”

I crossed to him and leaned on the edge of his desk, still eyeing the screen as the angry mob drew closer.

“Almost every year, Stan goes and visits the other major tourist attractions, our competition if you’d like. He then “pranks” them.” I rolled my eyes. “Well, more like wages war on them. He trashes their attractions, they come here and trash the shack. Practically tradition now. I just hope they realise I left the doors unlocked.”

A loud crash was heard upstairs as the screen showed a rock being thrown at the house.

“I guess not.” I sighed and pulled a nail file from the desk drawers before starting on my nails.

“Wha- how’d you, why was that in there?” Ford stared at me rasping the file along my nails.

“I used to keep Stan company down here. Needed something to do when I couldn’t help with the welding.” I shrugged.

“Well, what do we do about them then?” Ford pointed at the screen, clearly trying to find something he could cling to and control.

“Nothing we can do about it until they leave I’m afraid.”

So we just hide down here? Like children?” Ford was clearly dismissive of the idea, already standing with a set expression on his face. I reached out and grabbed the back of his coat.

“Woah boy! Sit back down.” I pulled sharply, Ford sitting heavily.

I continued with my nails.

“Look, last year they wrecked the shop, duct-taped Soos to the ceiling, gagged him with his own cap and shaved a strip of his hair off.” I deadpanned, “Does that sound like a good time to you?”

“No. No it does not.” Ford grimaced, reaching up to pat his hair protectively.

“So we’re hiding down here. Like children.” I smiled.

Ford chuckled.

“Well, it’s a plan. What shall we do to pass the time?”

“Are you still a champion chess player? I haven’t had a decent game in years. Stan always cheats.” I rolled my eyes, placing the nail file down.

As I glanced at Ford, I was alarmed to see how pale he’d gone. A flutter of unease settled in my stomach.

“Wel, ah, yes. I am still rather good... I used to, with Bi-” Ford cut himself off with a shudder and it was suddenly clear.

“Something else Bill ruined for you, huh?”

Ford nodded, eyes closed tight as he slowed his breathing.

“Ok, if chess brings up bad memories for you, we can think of something else. I’d probably beat you anyway.” I goaded, attempting to lighten Ford’s distress.

Ford snorted and I shuffled closer to gently take hold of his hand. Ford startled but didn’t pull away, choosing to link his fingers tightly with mine instead.

I smiled at the sight of his six fingers curling around mine with a sense of familiarity that hadn’t been there for 40 years. A idea suddenly sprang to mind.

“Hey, since we’re hiding down here like kids, wanna make shadow puppets? You were always the best at them. Remember the nights at the beach? I’d hold the flashlight and you and Stan would battle to see who could make the best ones? You always won.” I suggested, smiling at the memory.

Ford pulled away with a strange expression and I floundered slightly, once again managing to stick my foot in my mouth at the mention of the past.

“Ford, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, I guess I just thought,” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s fine. Grab the lamp from the shelf over there.” Ford made an effort to smile, “Let’s see if I can remember how to make the elephant again.”

I felt a grateful grin spread over my face.

It looked like we’d be trapped down in the basement by pissed off tourist attraction owners, but maybe it was a good opportunity to mend the bridges to the past.

 

I gasped for breath, tears falling helplessly as I clutched my sides.

“Stop! Stop it! I can- I can’t br-breathe!! I giggled uncontrollably as Ford dissolved into peals of laughter beside me.

“I’m telling you Carla, it was insanity! Everything had googly eyes! You couldn’t focus on anything. I couldn’t tell if the buildings were looking at me, the sky the ground, or glaring at the googly-eyed trash can behind me!”

I howled with laughter, slumping against Ford as I struggled to draw a lungful of air.

With a series of harsh pants, raspy breaths and giggly sighs, we slowly calmed down.

We had abandoned shadow puppets quickly, Ford getting distracted by telling me a multi-dimensional joke. Which inevitably led to us swapping hilarious stories from our lives. Ford finally gave in and had began to recount some of his zanier adventures in other dimension, much to my delight.

Still giggling lightly, I wiped my eyes and rested my head on Ford’s shoulder. Ford patted my knee softly.

“It feels good to laugh like this again.” He admitted, “It’s been a long time.”

“It’s nice to hear you laugh again.” I added before pulling my legs up to get ready to stand and check the screens. “I suppose we should see the damage our visitors left.”

Ford climbed to his feet and wordlessly hoisted me up after him.

“It seems clear now.” Ford gestured quickly in the direction of the screen.

“Not quite. Looks like the kids are back!” I smiled excitedly at the sight of the lurching motorhome pulling up to the house. Hurrying across the room, I hesitated by the door, remembering Ford’s current problem with the family. Glancing back, I gave Ford a sad smile as he hovered by the desk.

“Come up with me. I’m sure Mabel and Dipper have lots of stories to tell us. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m sure they do Carla, but...” Ford sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s Stan.” I I finished sadly.

“We just don’t seem to be capable of having a conversation that doesn’t end in a confrontation. There’s too much anger between us, too many mistakes and too much time lost.” Ford stared at the floor. I took some solace in the fact he hadn’t accuse Stan of causing all that anger this time.

Maybe I had been making progress...

“Just come upstairs Ford, just be in the same room as him. Please Ford...” I pleaded, but Ford simply waved his hand with a shake of his head.

“I don’t want to cause... We’re ok Carla, and the twins are great... but Stanley-” Ford sighed, “There’s just too much to overcome.”

“But, but,” I floundered for a moment, “Ford, what if Stan could help you? What if we could all help you? I know you’re not telling me all the details about whatever happened with Bill, and I know I said I wouldn’t push, but if Stan was to find out about it, all he’d want to do is help you sort it.”

“So he could no doubt hold it over me.”

“Because he cares about you. He always defended you from Crampelter, and as far as I see it, Bill is just a bigger bully. If you were to talk to Stan and work together like you used too-”

“No Carla. Bill is far too dangerous to risk anyone else getting involved. If you know about Bill, you know that. I won’t do it.” Ford said firmly. “I have a plan for Bill and the Shack is protected. I don’t need Stan’s help.”

Something in my face must have gotten through Ford’s defensive shell, because he sighed and rested a hand on my shoulder.

“However, if it makes you feel any better Carla, I’m fairly certain I don’t hate Stanley. I’m just extremely angry at him still.”

I pursed my lips, dismayed by his decision, but at least I’d heard Ford admit he didn’t hate Stanley.

“Well, it’s not perfect, but I’ll take it. For now.” I warned with a smile and a raised finger.

Ford chuckled quietly.

“You’d better go upstairs. They’re going to start searching for you soon.” He said, turning away to his work, effectively ending our time together.

I’ll make sure dinner is left in the oven for you.” I called over my shoulder as I headed back to the elevator.

 

X

 

“You shoulda seen it baby! Giant spider lady, giant boot of Paul Bunyan, blammo! Splat!” Stan excited retold the final epic of his road trip with the kids as he helped wash up, slapping his hand down on the water in emphasis.

Splashing me in the process.

“Stanley.” I scolded with a smile, flicking him with the dish towel in return.

Stan chuckled as I wiped myself down, returning to the dishes.

“So, tell me again how you were lured into the web of a giant spider lady?” I asked, drying the final plate.

Stan hesitated, giving me a furitive sideways glance.

“Uh, ya know, sacrificing myself for the kids?” he tried. Uh _huh_ , right.

“Not what the kids told me.” I smiled to myself as I put the plates away.

“Ratted out by the gremlins huh? Fine. I was showing Dipper how my 3 C’s of dating worked.” Stan admitted, defeated.

“I told you they didn’t work.” I said primly, fussing with the dish towel as I laid it out on the bench before facing Stan.

“Yeah, yeah. You were right ok? I’m a lucky schmuck to have ended up with such a beautiful, understanding woman like you.” Stan flashed me a debonair grin as he promptly picked up the neat dish towel and dried his hands. I pursed my lips, Stan’s grin falling slightly.

“A lucky schmuck who still felt the need to flirt with another woman?” I accused, raising an eyebrow.

“For educational purpose baby!” Stan blustered. I said nothing, folding my arms as I continued to stare at him.

“Aw come on Carla, baby! It wasn’t anything serious!” Stan continued.

I sniffed theatrically and turned around, fighting the urge to double over laughing, even as I wiped a mock tear from my eye. This was getting too easy.

I wasn’t even mad.

I didn’t care that Stan had flirted with another woman. He **was** a flirt, always had been. That was the secret to his charm and why I kept falling for him, despite the dubious life choices.

Besides, he was **my** flirt, and we _both_ knew that.

Deciding I’d played up the charade for long enough, I turned back around to face Stan, only to find myself staring at thin air.

Stan was on his knees in front of me, looking up at me with hands clasped and wide, contrite eyes.

“Stan! Your knees! Come on, get off the floor!” I scolded, bending down to grab his arm.

“Nuh uh! Not ‘til ya stop being mad at me! I’ll grovel all night if I have to!” Stan threatened stubbornly.

“I was never mad at you to begin with you daft old goat!” I huffed, tugging Stan’s arm uselessly. “And you know that!”

“Yeah, but it’s fun making ya go all high and squeaky like that.” Stan grinned shamelessly as he got up, stretching his back with a wince. “But are ya **sure** ya not mad?”

“Well, I am a little mad that your stupid flirting almost got you killed. But I’m not mad about your stupid flirting.” I smiled and rested a hand against Stan’s cheek. “Besides, I think you’ve learnt your lesson.”

“Yeah. Stay the hell away from Mystery Mountain!” Stan’s grin grew wider. I rolled my eyes and went to move away, but Stan’s arms shot out and pulled me tight to him.

“And to never forget how amazing my girl is.” He added in a sweet whisper as he kissed my forehead. My heart fluttered happily and I grinned like the cat who stole the cream as I snuggled against him.

“Damn right mister.” I said, voice muffled against his chest. I felt rather than heard Stan’s replying chuckle.

Wrapping my arms around Stan, I inhaled the comforting scent he always seemed to carry. The same cheap cologne he’d used for 30 years mingled with the familiar mustiness of the Shack, woody and warm; memory after memory layered together in a single scent.

God, I was glad to have him home again.

Stan kissed the top of my head, cuddling me tighter as he rested his cheek against my hair.

“Missed you.” He sighed.

Not wanting to break the moment, I stayed silent and just savoured the feeling of being in Stan’s arms again.

Or I was, until a loud creak of the floorboards separated us in alarm.

It was Ford.

“Sorry. Thought everyone would be asleep, or at least -”

“Avoidable?” Stan added rather nastily. I elbowed him with a warning frown.

“It’s fine Ford. We were just about to head upstairs anyway.” I smiled at the older twin in the doorway encouragingly.

“We were?” Stan asked me with a shocked expression.

“Yes. So you’ll be able to eat in peace Ford.” I tucked my arm through Stan’s and went to walk, only to stumble as Stan refused to move.

“You’re kidding me right?” Stan’s question was directed at Ford. “Instead of eating with ya family, like a normal person, ya sneak around after dark so ya don’t have to see us? Or even talk to us?”

Stan’s voice was low and I caught sight of his hands beginning to curl into fists.

Ford apparently noticed as well.

“Stanley, that’s not it at all. I was simply too busy earlier to leave my work to join you for dinn-”

“Ya weren’t too busy for lunch yesterday.” Stan snapped back. I groaned internally, this could not end well.

“Carla offered for me to have lunch with her. It would have been rude to refuse.” Ford replied through gritted teeth.

I had to admit, I was impressed. Ford was taking my advice and actually trying to talk to Stan instead of running back down to the basement or dragging up the past.

“So, what? Ya need an invite to every meal now? That it?”

Sensing Stan was close to inciting yet another fight, I tugged his arm to get his attention.

“Come on hon, it doesn’t really matter. There was plenty of dinner left over and Ford’s going to be eating some of it, so we all ate the same meal... isn’t that enough for now?” I could hear the begging tone in my voice, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose with a frustrated exhale.

“No. Sorry baby, but I’m not having this anymore. The genius will eat with you, spend time with the kids, but can’t stand the sight of me. That’s what this about. And I wanna know why.”

“Because I can actually stand to be in the same room with everyone except you.”

Ford’s reply was low and vicious.

I felt the sting of the words, even though not their intended recipient.

Stan’s jaw fell open, his fists clenching and unclenching by his sides as he stared at his brother.

Ford’s face was unreadable.

I held my breath, waiting for Stan’s predictable explosion at Ford, but instead, Stan just sagged as the fight drained out of him. Without a word, Stan shoved past his brother, pausing just behind him for a second before shaking his head and continuing on.

Ford and I stood silently as Stan climbed the stairs. After a few minutes, we both heard the dull thud of Stan punching the cupboard door.

“Be grateful that wasn’t your face.” I told Ford, anger and misery swirling unpleasantly in my stomach.

Ford sighed and fiddled with his glasses.

“Do you see what I meant Carla? Every time he opens his mouth, it starts an argument.”

“Stan wasn’t the one who just said he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as his brother.” I replied coolly.

Ford strode into the room and sat heavily at the table.

“That- that was wrong of me.”

“You think so genius? And while we’re at it, stop placing your emotional damage on Stan.” I placed a hand on my hip and glared at Ford. “Maybe Stan isn’t perfect, maybe he can be hot headed and maybe sometimes, he is selfish. But guess what Ford? That’s human nature. You’re not any better.”

Ford opened his mouth to protest but I silenced him with a wave of my hand.

“Trusting a other worldly demon, building a dangerous portal in your basement, turning your back on everyone who ever cared about you, attacking Stan for bringing you back, giving a twelve-year old mind controlling ties,” I ticked each event off on my fingers. “And there’s probably more I don’t know about. But you are far from innocent Ford. Now don’t get me wrong, I love having you back. And I’ve adored every minute we’ve spent together these last two days. But you can’t keep blaming everything on Stan. You started all this years ago. Act your age and take some damn responsibility. And don’t be such a dick to your brother.” I added, sounding more like Ford’s mother than his friend.

Ford’s gaze had dropped to the table during my rant and I felt a guilty tug at my heart.

“Ford?” I waited until Ford finally looked at me. “Just get something to eat and try to sleep for a few hours ok?” I suggested, moving to rest a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll deal with the aftermath of this tomorrow.”

Before I could move away, Ford had taken a hold of my hand.

“I didn’t intend to ruin what **we’d** just got back Carla.”

I sighed and squeezed his hand.

“That’s not fair Ford. I can’t choose you over Stanley. I didn’t ever want to have to choose between either of you. I love you both, but we both know whose side I’ve always been on.”

Ford nodded slowly and it felt like my heart was breaking again.

“Let’s just all try to survive until the end of summer. We’ll sort everything out after the twins have left. Goodnight Ford.”

“Goodnight Carla.” Ford replied as he let go of my hand.

I forced myself not to look back as I walked out of the kitchen and started up the stairs.

Making my way closer to Stanley and getting further away from Ford, I could feel the heaviness slowly settling in my heart.

One step forward, two steps back, and three giant leaps even further back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! This took so much editing! I found it so hard to balance everything. Plus I know we're coming to the end and I'm rather sad about that because I've loved writing this SO much!  
> Ah well... bring on Weirdmaggedon!
> 
> p.s. Was that a Rick and Morty reference? I believe it may have been! :P


	25. August 2012 - Not a Bang, but a Boop-Boop

August 2012

 

I stared as the edge of Ford’s trench coat vanished out the front door with a sense of urgency.

He certainly seemed to be in a hurry, wherever he was going and whatever he was doing.

“Wonder what’s got Poindexter so hopped up.” Stan grumbled as he came down the stairs.

Before I could reply, there was the patter of feet and Dipper came running down the hall, hot on Ford’s trail.

“Gottago!HelpingFord,byee!” He yelled, jerking to a stop as Stan grabbed his backpack and lifted him into the air.

“Whoa kiddo! Just what do ya think you’re doing?” Stan demanded as Dipper twisted futilely in his grip.

“Great Uncle Ford asked me to help him today. With... You know, stuff?”

Stan looked furious and ready to blow up.

I decided to intervene.

“Ok hon. Just stay safe and don’t let Ford get into anymore trouble.” I patted Stan’s arm before working his fingers lose from Dipper’s backpack.

“But, but-” Stan protested as Dipper got free.

“Dipper my boy, let’s go!” Ford called from outside.

“Bye guys!” Dipper waved as he ran out of the house quickly.

“What the **heck** was that about Carla?!” Stan rounded on me instantly.

“If we want things to get better in this house, we’re going to have to show Ford that we trust him.” I said calmly, all while feeling like a complete hypocrite.

I _didn’t_ trust Ford to keep Dipper out of danger, but Dipper had proven, more than once, that he knew how to handle the type of danger found in Gravity Falls (except for choosing to use those _damn_ ties). I trusted Dipper to do the right thing.

“But we don’t trust Ford!” Stan pointed out, apparently reading my mind.

“I know, but maybe we should try-”

“WHAT?!”

“Stan, has it ever crossed your mind that there may be a reason Ford’s not telling us everything?” I tried, remembering the promise I’d made to Ford not to tell Stan about the threat from Bill Cipher. I was starting to think I’d have to break it if tensions didn’t ease soon.

“Yeah, it has. And the only reason I know of is that he still hates me and it would kill the giant nerd to ask for help.” Stan snorted derisively, and I fought the urge to give him a slap around the ear.

“Besides, he clearly trusts the kids, and ya clearly taking his side,” Stan continued, “this is all about how much he hates me.”  
“Oh, Stan!” I huffed in frustration, “This is really not all about you! Don’t be so selfish. I know how you feel about Ford but-”

“Selfish? SELFISH?!” Stan’s voice rose scarily and I instantly regretted my choice of words.

“Maybe selfish wasn’t exactly what I-”

“Oh no! You said selfish! And ya right. It is selfish, so selfish of me to have to deal with a rotten brother who **hates** me! I’m sorry to bother ya with my **SELFISHNESS**!” Stan yelled before stomping off in the opposite direction.

I groaned, covering my eyes as I heard him start to aggressively rearrange the shelves in the gift shop.

“GRAUNTIE CARLA!”

Mabel came sprinting down the hall in her usual cloud of glitter, arms overflowing with a bundle of paper.

“Can you help me deliver the party invites?” She asked, eyes wide and begging.

I rubbed my eyes tiredly.

“Sweetheart, it’s not a great time right now.”

Stan chose that moment to storm out of the shack, the slam of the door reverberating through the walls.

“Oh.” Mabel chewed her lip.

I sighed, walking through the lounge with Mabel at my heels.

“Do you think they’ll work it out soon?” Mabel asked as we reached the door to the gift shop.

“I don’t know Mabel.” I entered the gift shop, only to find it predictably empty.

“Well! No point moping around here while Grunkle Stan gets all mopey and grumpy!” Mabel announced cheerfully. “Let’s get cracking on delivering these invitations for the biggest birthday bonanza ever! Everyone comes together to celebrate a big birthday!”

“Mabel, honey, really. It’s not a good time.” I said, wanting to go out and search for Stan before he could do something stupid... Like following Ford.

“But, Grauntie Carla, Dipper’s not here and I need someone to help-”

“Go and ask Soos.” I suggested.

“But, but-“

“Mabel, please!” I cried out. “Go and get Soos to help you. I don’t have time to help! I need to sort out Stanley and Stanford!”

Mabel took a step back, wide eyed and looking hurt.

I immediately covered my mouth with my hands.

“Mabel, sweetheart...” I said apologetically, reaching out gently. But Mabel turned and ran back out of the gift shop, several flyers fluttering from her hands as she left.

“Oh, great.” I muttered, crouching to pick up a flyer. “Now **everyone’s** upset. What were you thinking Carla?”

I stood up, staring softly at the flyer.

Mabel had drawn her and Dipper jumping out of a large cake with the number thirteen iced on it.

She’d been so excited.

How could I have snapped like that at her? She just wanted help. And now she’d probably go and hide in Sweater Town for hours again, or worse, jump into the Bottomless Pit while she cried.

God! I was doing terribly at keeping this family together still. Stan and Ford had been at each other’s throats since Stan and kids came home from their road trip, Mabel and Dipper hadn’t been as close lately (something I was ready to blame on Ford), Dipper had been more jumpy than ever, and I was yo-yoing between Stan and Ford... trying to keep a 30 year relationship from crumbling, and trying to preserve the fragile peace between Ford and myself after only just coming to an understanding...

I walked out onto the front porch with the urge to scream, only to see Mabel climbing into Soos’ truck. I was happy to see she wasn’t crying, trusting Soos to keep her spirits up while I went and slapped some sense back into Stan.

And when Ford and Dipper got back... I was going to sit everyone down and force them to sort this.

This tension had to end, today.

 

“There you are.” I sighed, finding him behind a small clump of saplings growing just outside the clearing.

“Go away.” He scowled.

“No.” I walked up and rested a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t get to just storm out like that.”

“Why not? Who cares?”

I exhaled sharply through my nose, forcing myself to be patient.

“I care Stan. I know you’re hurting right now, especially after what Ford said, but we have to try and work this out.”

“There’s nothing to work out!” Stan finally looked at me. I wasn’t surprised to see the tears in his eyes. “Nothing is ever gonna change. At the end of summer, I’m gonna find my old, wrinkled ass back out on the street with nothing but my car and the clothes on my back.”

“Better make sure you wear the expensive suit then.” I muttered absently.

“What?”

“Nothing sweetheart. Let’s go back inside ok? I think we need to talk.” I threaded my arm through his and tugged slightly.

“Talk? What about?” Stan gave in to my tugging easily.

“About Ford. I realised that I’ve been telling you to make exceptions for Ford’s feeling, making it all about him again and pushing your feelings to the side. And that’s not fair.” I said as we walked back to the shack. “But there’s things going on that you don’t know about and once we’re back inside that magical barrier of his, I’ll tell you what they are.”

“Wait... what do you know? What did he tell you?” Stan demanded as we approached the porch.

“Once we’re inside. I don’t want to risk anyone finding out.” I insisted.

Stan glanced at me uncertainly, but waited in a very impatient silence until he was sitting in the old yellow recliner.

I grabbed one of the chairs from the table and placed it in front of Stan before sitting.

“You remember that creature, Bill Cipher, that was in your head?” I asked, trying to organise my own thoughts.

Stan nodded.

“Well, the reason he was written about in Ford’s journal, with all those warnings, is because he came to Ford over 30 years ago. It was Bill Cipher that gave Ford the idea of building that damn portal-”

“We already know that Carla.” Stan pointed out, folding his arms with a frown.

“I know. I’m just trying to work my way up here.” I fidgeted with my wedding ring. “Ford’s crazy paranoia when you arrived here, that was because of Bill. And the stealing his eyes craziness? Bill sort of, created this partial blindness in Ford’s right eye. I don’t really know why.”

“What?” Stan’s hands clenched and I saw his jaw tense.

“It’s not the most important thing right now ok? Bill would actually possess Ford, while he was sleeping, so that the portal could be worked on around the clock. Remember how the journal said that Bill would use the portal to destroy our world? Now imagine you’re an almost omnipotent dream demon who was **so** close to taking over a new dimension, only to have it ripped away at the last second? How angry do you think you’d be?”

“I don’t understand where’re ya going with this.” Stan said gruffly.

“Ford’s worried. When the portal broke after he came back, it apparently did some massive damage that is somehow related to Bill still being able to get into this dimension. Ford told me he has a plan to deal with Bill, whatever that is. He’s been kinda tight-lipped about it, but he tried to assure me it would work. That’s what Ford’s been working on. He’s trying to prevent the end of the world. Which I guess we may be partially responsible for.”

“What? Why the hell didn’t the idiot just say that?” Stan fumed, unfolding his arms and leaning forward. “I’d have listened to him then!”

“Really? Would _you_ have listened to him? Ford’s been haunted by Bill for 30 years! Bill possessing him got to the point where Ford couldn’t even trust his own mind, let alone trust someone he hadn’t talked to in years. I mean, he panicked just the other day when I barely mentioned possession around him, a full blown panic attack. Just like you used to get after the...” I grimaced, “ the ‘Rico’ incident.”

Stan stared, blinking dumbly. I took it as an opportunity to carry on.

“He made a mistake, all those years ago. He trusted the wrong person and he paid for it. More than we truly know. Sound familiar?”

Stan scowled guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I guess. I just wish tha’ knucklehead had told me. I coulda been there for him. That’s what I did ya know? Protected him from the kids who wanted ta hurt him.”

“I know sweetheart, I know.” I sighed and got up from my chair to sit on Stan’s lap, placing my arms around him. “But I think Bill’s going to be bigger than Crampelter ever was.”

“You and the kids got rid of him though, right? So if you can do that, so can I.”

“In your head we did, but the journal mentions something about never letting Bill gain physical form, otherwise he’s basically unstoppable. And if he ever gets into our world, he gets physical form.”

“Ya know, that information would’ve been handy a few 30 years ago.” Stan mused, rubbing his chin.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you all of this when I found out. Ford really didn’t want to tell you he needed help.” I apologised. Stan waved a hand.

“Ah, ya know me baby. I can’t hold a grudge.”

“Except against your brother.”

Stan grimaced.

“Guess I shoulda known he had a reason... that didn’t revolve around me that is. And I should’ve listened to ya. I’m still mad at him though!” Stan claimed quickly.

“I think you’re allowed to be. He threatened to throw you out again.” I couldn’t help but feel a lot more relieved now Stan knew everything I knew, despite the mountain of information we still didn’t know.

“Yeah...” Stan deflated slightly. “We’re gonna have to help get him out of this too aren’t we?”

“Probably.” I agreed. “I don’t know what he has planned, but we should have a backup plan. Or at least pin him down and force him to tell us what he has planned.”

“Probably won’t get a thanks for this either.” Stan grumbled.

“It’s not that bad,” I tried to placate, “it could be worse.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“It could be the end of the world.”

 

X

 

I was curled up in the recliner when, several hours later, a bruised and bloodied Ford was helped through the door by a battered and tired Dipper.

“What on Earth-?” I gaped, up on my feet and hurrying across to take Ford’s other arm and his weight off of Dipper.

“We were-” Dipper hesitated, “there was this-”

“Strange, freak accident?” I supplied.

“Buried UFO.”

I almost froze, barely remembering to get Ford sitting on the recliner before turning back to Dipper.

“A what now?”

“A UFO Carla, the boy said it was a UFO.” Ford groaned, gripping my hand tightly.

“I heard him Ford, I just don’t believe him.” I said, catching sight of Dipper racing from the room. “Dipper! Come **back** here! Are you alright?!”

When I got no response, I sighed and turned back to Ford.

“What happened to not putting the kids in danger?” I demanded, anger only slightly eased by the sorry state of the man before me.

“Wasn’t, wasn’t-” Ford coughed harshly, drawing a rattling breath. “Wasn’t supposed to be active.”

“What’s all the commotion? Kid’s barging around like a- Whoa. What the heck happened to you?” Stan paused, soda can halfway to his mouth as he stepped into the lounge.

Ford went to get up and I pushed him back down.

“Oh no mister. You’re staying here until I’ve gotten a good look at those cuts and scrapes.” I insisted.

“And until we’ve talked.” Stan added, effectively cutting off the doorway.

“I don’t have time for this!” Ford protested, “I have to go and fix the-”

“Fix what?” Stan asked quickly. “ The portal?”

“No you knucklehead!” Ford snapped, wincing as I fussed with the mark on his head. “Carla! Do you mind?!”

“Shut up and listen to your brother.”

“Carla told me everything Ford.” Stan came closer, a cautious eye on his brother.

“Everything?” Ford echoed, eyes darting between me and Stanley.

“Everything you told me and what I’d figured out from the journals.” I confirmed.

“Ford, why didn’t ya just tell me, all those years ago, that ya were in trouble? Did ya really think I wouldn’t understand?” Stan asked.

“You wouldn’t have believed me. No one would’ve.”

“I coulda helped!”

“Right. Sure, just like you helped fix my science project?!”

“Hey! If there’s one thing I’ve learnt, family helps each other! They help each other out and don’t abandon them when they make a mistake! No matter what happened in the past!”

“You’ve made more than just one mistake here Stanley! And now I have to fix it! On. My. Own!”

“Why?!”

“Because it was my problem!”

Still trying to check the extent of Ford’s injuries while he and Stan yelled at each other, I mildly registered the shock of hearing Ford finally take the responsibility for starting all the portal nonsense in the first place. But Stan seemed oblivious, bull-headed to the end, as he tried to get Ford to understand why he wanted to help despite the past.

“And your problem became my problem!” Stan yelled back. “30 damn years Ford! 30 years! And ya still trying to keep me out instead of letting me help!”

“You can’t help me!” Ford finally pushed me away, clearly not as injured as he seemed. Stan caught me as I stumbled back, Ford pulling himself to his full height and glaring at us both.

There was a sudden pounding of feet, Mabel sprinting down the stairs and throwing herself out the door with loud sobs, lugging her backpack after her.

“Mabel, sweetheart?”

“Pumpkin!”

“Mabel, wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” Dipper yelled as he ran down the stairs after his sister. “Mabel, come back!”

“Dipper, what happened?” I asked, forgetting Ford and headed towards the heartbroken boy in the doorway.

“We, we had a fight.” Dipper gulped sadly.

“That’s not important right now,” Ford interrupted loudly. “We have the glue, we just need to fix the rift-”

“Not important? Not IMPORTANT?!” Stan rounded on Ford. “The last time a twin in this family decided something wasn’t important, **I** thrown out on the street!”

“What happened Dipper?” I asked, crouching down to rest a hand on Dipper’s shoulder.

“Ford, he, he offered for me to stay here, but Mabel- she didn’t take it well, she heard over the walkie talkies, oh man! I- I need to think about this.”

“You did what?” Stan shouted at his brother, all earlier concern gone. “You involved the poor kid in your mess and then tried to pull him away from his sister?! What the heck is the matter with you Stanford?!”

I squeezed Dipper’s shoulder softly, trying to reassure him as best as I could as he chewed his lip in concern for his sister. I glanced back at Ford who had set his face sternly and was glaring at Stanley.

“Nothing is the matter with me Stanley. I’m trying to protect this world from something far worse than a sibling’s quarrel. Dipper, give me the rift. Once I glue it, we can all argue later. The fate of the world rests on this!” Ford snipped angrily.

Dipper reached for his backpack where it had landed by the door.

“What’s a rift?” I asked, sighing angrily when he didn’t reply. “Stanford! What is this rift you’re talking about?”

**“Oh no!”**

We all turned to Dipper as he cried out. He was holding up a crumpled birthday flyer with a look of pure shock on his face.

“The rift!” He whispered, eyes wide as he held what was clearly not his own backpack.

There was a sudden rumble under our feet, the house shaking.

“No.” Ford’s face went pale right before he sprinted out of the house, Dipper following him.

I shared a worried glance with Stan before we ran after them.

Steeping out onto the back porch, Stan and I froze.

The wind was whipping around the shack, leaves and debris flying through the air as the trees began to bend. But what caught our attention most was the garish, multi-coloured, giant cross currently splitting the sky.

A triangle appeared in front of the colours, cackling manically as it grew larger, its frame being wrapped in thick bands of muscle and bricks.

“At last! At long, long last! The gateway between worlds has opened! The event _one billion years prophesized_ has finally come to pass! The day has come! _The world is finally mine!”_

My blood froze as I heard the all too familiar scream of Bill Cipher’s voice above the wind.

I stumbled down the steps towards Dipper and Ford, Stan grabbing my arm desperately.

“Carla! NO!”

“We have to get them!” I protested.

“What's going on?! What is that?!” Dipper yelled as I fought with Stan to reach them.

“We're too late! It's the end of the world.” Ford announced flatly, staring defeated up at the newly made demon cackling above us.

Oh god.

Ford had been right.

Bill continued to laugh as we all stared up at the sky hopelessly.

We couldn’t stop him now.

“RUN!” Stan yelled, my feet reacting on instinct and I began to race back to the safety of the house.

I didn’t know what we were going to do, but I did know one thing.

Everything was about to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one seems so short!  
> Was given this idea by the ever wonderful Energywitch about family confrontations and it just fit beautifully, right before the big event!  
> See you next week for Weirdmageddon!!


	26. August 2012 - Because this Town Couldn't get Weirder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof! This chapter was a beast! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get this posted. Not only did it take me a long time even to just plan it, I had to deal with a few personal problems that meant I wasn't in the mindset to write this. But here it is! Welcome one and all to Weirdmageddon!
> 
> *Also, this chapter does include bad language and fairly nasty descriptions of torture. This your courtesy warning :)*

August 2012

“Well. Gompers is 3 storeys tall now.”

I didn’t take my eyes off the swirling sky outside.

“That’s nice dear... wait. What?”

Stan sighed and touched my arm gently.

“I’m sure they’re all fine Carla-”

“How could they be?!” I suddenly exploded. “You’ve heard the stories! The Shack is the only safe place left in town! People are being turned to stone, monsters are trying to eat people, Farmer Sprott going mad and starting a cult... For crying out, we have gnomes, humans, Manotaurs and whatever a multi-bear is taking refuge in our front room! There is a maniac triangle with a 30-year grudge against Ford and both of the twins are out there without us! It’s been two days! No one has seen Wendy or Soos! Nothing is fine!” I turned to face Stanley, panting for breath as the worried knot in my chest tightened further as I finally addressed the craziness we were currently living through.

For the last two days, Stan and I had been taking in everyone and anyone who had survived the beginning of Bill’s new reign. Looking after them, bandaging wounds, preventing the gnomes from starting fights or marrying Pacifica Northwest... it had all just been a distraction.

A distraction from the painful fact that most of my family were apparently still out there amid the danger, with no way for me to know if they were alive or dead.

“Carla, they know this place is protected. They’ll find a way here. And I’ve been keeping an eye out for them.” Stan rubbed his face tiredly.

I sagged, guilt making itself known around the edge of my fear. I knew Stan was feeling just as scared as I was, he didn’t need my frustration on top of that. He’d been doing wonderfully, making the treks to find survivors as well as keeping order in the crowded shack. The survivors had even named him an honorary chief, a position that came with a complimentary sash that Stan had yet to take off.

“I’m sorry Stan.” I hugged my arms around myself tightly. “I’m just so worried. Without Ford, we have no idea how to get rid of Bill. And we can’t hide in the Shack forever. What’s going to happen when we run out of food for everyone?”

“We’ll eat the gnomes.” Stan joked, his grin not quite reaching his tired eyes.

“Stan, I’m serious.”

“So am I. Three or four of those little pests, pot of water, some vegetables, we’ll make a stew out of them. There. Problem solved.”

I sighed, Stan moving to wrap his arm around my shoulders and he squeezed tightly.

“We’re all gonna get through this Carla, promise. Ya know I’d do anything to save you and the kids.”

“What about Ford?”

“Meh. That nerd is debatable.”

I was about to reply when someone cleared their throat from the kitchen doorway.

It was Pacifica.

“Uh, Mr and Mrs Pines? There’s more survivors arriving.”

Stan nodded, arm dropping from my shoulders and striding towards the door as he straightened his sash.

“Thanks kid.”

I walked over and rested a hand on Pacifica’s shoulder.

“You ok sweetheart?”

“Yeah. Though that creep Jeff is hitting on me again.” The blonde girl scrunched her face up in disgust. “What **is** their deal Mrs Pines?”

“They’re gnomes Pacifica, they’re naturally creepy. Here,” I handed her one of the kitchen pans. “one swift whack and they’ll leave you alone. Oh, and call me Carla.”

“Thanks!” Pacifica took the pan, hesitating slightly with a shy glance at me. “Carla? I’m sure Mabel and Dipper are ok. They’re, like, really good at dealing with the weird. But you know, don’t tell them I said that or anything.”

I smiled softly.

“Thank you Pacifica.”

Pacifica nodded, cheeks flushing, before leaving the room with an awkward cough.

Shortly afterwards, I heard a loud clang, some cheering and the hissing of a gnome.

“Attagirl.” I whispered as I opened the front door to watch Stan usher the newest survivors across the clearing.

There weren’t many, less than there had been the day before.

Old Man McGucket was leading this group, an odd pair of broken green glasses on his face. He’d just reached the barrier when I saw the wave of weirdness approaching through the trees.

“RUN!” I yelled, gesturing wildly. “WEIRDNESS WAVE!”

“Move it!” Stan roared, starting to run himself.

The group was thrown into a panicked chaos.

McGucket reached the Shack first, a raccoon hanging from the bundle slung over his shoulder. A few other’s reached me, stumbling into the shack as Stan hauled Sheriff Blubs over the barrier just as the wave rushed into the clearing.

Two of the survivors were swept up by it. One of them turned into a multi-limbed conglomeration who shrieked alarmingly before squelching into the woods, the other was transformed into a sentient wooden end table that was snatched up by the now gigantic Gompers.

I simply stared as the goat’s long legs easily cleared the roof of the house, everything shaking as he trotted away.

I leaned against the door, all adrenaline and fight draining from me as our new reality sank in once again.

“Can’t, can’t – impossible, no way to live- three storeys! Mabel, Dipper, Ford-” My head was spinning as I muttered to myself nonsensically.

“Carla? Carla, baby?”

Large hands gripped my shoulders, shaking me lightly. I blearily focused on Stan’s concerned face.

“Mmph?”

“Come on, snap out of it! Please! I need ya here with me baby.” Stan implored as I shook my head stubbornly.

“We can’t keep doing this Stanley.” I said flatly, “We’re just sitting here and waiting for... what? All that’s out there is insanity! No one can stop this now!”

“I might have an idea!” Old Man McGucket cackled, hopping from foot to foot.

“You do? What is it?” I twisted to look at the hunched over man next to us.

“Come on Carla, the guy’s a kook.” Stan grumbled.

“Take a look around us Stanley. The world’s already gone mad. And I’m willing to take a chance on the kook. What’s your idea McGucket?”

“Err, I- I forgot!” The old man scratched his beard, puzzled. “Wait! Forgot... forgot... What was tha’ there fella’s name again...”

“See Carla?” Stan stepped back with a sigh. “The guy’s nuts.”

“The whole town is nuts Stanley-”

“Stanley! No. No, not him... The other one! You stole his face!” McGucket gestured wildly at Stan with a crazy laugh and nervous knee slapping.

“Stanford? Ford?” I offered, ignoring my surprise that someone else (and the town crazy man to boot!) had knowledge of Ford.

“Yes! Him! He had a plan!”

“How’d ya know that?” Stan folded his arms and glared.

“I don’t! Betsy told me!” McGucket pulled the same raccoon from before out from behind his beard with a gap-toothed beam.

Stan and I exchanged a glance before looking back at McGucket.

“We need tha’ Ford fella! Where is he?”

“We don’t know. Out there somewhere.” I gestured vaguely at the multi-coloured sky.

“Ah sweet sally sassafrass.” McGucket cussed nervously, ‘Betsy’ taking the chance to wriggle out of his arms and scamper back inside. “Betsy! Come back! Ah, eh!” McGucket ran after it, his plan forgotten.

“That went as well as I thought it would,” Stan started pushing me back inside the house. “and now, our new plan is to hold up inside forever. No more going out there!”

I dug my heels in immediately, shaking my head.

“You can’t be serious?! What about the twins? Soos? Wendy? FORD!”

“Ya saw what just happened Carla! It’s too dangerous out there!

“Which is exactly why we should be looking for them! Just because you’re scared-”

“No! I’m forbidding _anyone_ from taking another STEP outside!”  
I opened my mouth to continue arguing, only to catch sight of a tower of gnomes attempting to open the kitchen cupboards. Perfect timing boys.

“Fine,” I sighed, hand covering my eyes in defeat. “fine. You win. No one goes outside.”

“Right.” Stan’s eyes narrowed, no doubt suspicious that I’d agreed so quickly.

A loud bang and clatter echoed from the kitchen and Stan swore.

“Now what?!” He demanded, stomping away as expected.

Taking my chance, I grabbed the nearby McGucket.

“You might be crazy, but you knew Ford so I’m going to trust you. Keep Stan distracted ok? I’m going to find out what’s happened to Ford.”

“Ya can’t go out there Carla! It’s madness!” McGucket hissed, strangely coherent.

“Someone needs too. Besides, I have to find those kids.” I said firmly, fear driving my determination.

“Well, be careful.” McGucket said sadly.

I nodded, glancing back at the kitchen to see Stan still chasing gnomes around before wrenching the door open and starting to run across the clearing.

“CARLA!”

I barely heard Stan’s frantic cry, just praying he wouldn’t follow me. Stan was undoubtedly faster than me and if he caught me, he’d never let me near the door again.

Reaching the tress, a flash of colour appeared to my right.

A cloud of weirdness bubbles! And nowhere to escape them. What the hell had I done?! There was no way I’d make it back to the barrier without running into them!

All of a sudden, the ground shook, trees shifting to the side as a giant hand reached out and scooped me off the ground.

I screamed as I dropped to my knees on the oddly warm surface, squeezing my eyes shut as the fingers closed like a cage around me. This was it! This was my death, literally at the hands of a monster!

When my immediate death didn’t arrive, I risked opening my eyes.

The fingers currently surrounding me were huge, skinny and human-like. The ‘skin’ was a pale beige with veins of red streaked through it. The fingers had layers of bark and lichen covering them, and in one case, a bunch of pinecones growing from the knuckle.

Craning my neck, I glanced down to see the weirdness bubbles floating harmlessly away as I was held up in the air by a hand that was protruding from the top of the trees. Still shaking, I struggled to my feet and slowly made my way over to the giant thumb before patting it gingerly.

“Thank you... Steve?”

There was a replying low grumble from the forest. I took that as an acknowledgement that I was right, especially as the fingers lowered slightly and I was able to see all the way to the town.

There were spirals of smoke rising from ruined buildings, the smoke drawing my eye further into the distance where there was a giant bubble hovering near the large bridge, not too far from where Bill’s terrifying, floating pyramid palace was. My fear redoubled its grip on me as I observed the chaos and apparently desolate town. I glanced back at the shack, tempted to head back, when I saw Stan struggling in the grip of the Manotuars as they held him back inside the barrier. He was yelling and desperately fighting back.

It broke my heart to see him so upset, but it also resolved my mind. I had to do this. We couldn’t stay in that shack forever. I had to at least try to find Ford. He’d said he had plan, McGucket said he’d had a plan.

Ford was our only chance at getting everything back to normal now.

“I love you Stanley.” I whispered before patting the large thumb beside me again. “Steve? Can you take me closer to the town? Please?” I asked tentatively, not even sure if he could understand me.

There was another low grumble, much longer this time, before there was a massive lurch that made me wobble alarmingly. I flung my arms around Steve’s thumb to stay upright as we moved swiftly and jerkily toward the town, the epicentre of the chaos.

 

X

 

Poking my head above the fence I was crouched behind, I stared in disbelief at the wreck of the town.

It looked like a post-apocalyptic world out here. It was remarkable that there’d even been any survivors to reach the shack.

I ducked back into my hiding spot as Farmer Sprott walked past yelling about Armageddon and how to please our new overlord. Once he was gone, and the coast was relatively safe, I got to my feet and eyed the abandoned bar across the road. That would do for my next hiding spot, I might even be able to find a back door that would lead me further into the town. I just needed to be quick... wait!

A flash of blue and white caught my eye.

“Dipper?”

I stared in a combination of joy and horror as I saw Dipper running from the monstrosity that was a giant head with one arm sticking out of it.

“Hey you! Get in my mouth!” The head yelled as it clawed its way after Dipper.

Dipper dodged and weaved beautifully as he ran for cover, headed towards the mall.

I had to follow him! If he was alive, surely Mabel or Ford had to be with him right?

Forgetting to double-check the path was still clear in my excitement, I raced out of cover and almost got hit by a beam of sizzling, violet light.

Yelling, I leapt to the side, my weak ankle rolling over a lump of fallen masonry. I hit the ground hard, landing on my back with a groan.

Above me, a giant eye-bat hovered and focused on me as it readied for another attack.

I froze, hoping that if I simply didn’t move, it wouldn’t attack me again.

For a moment, it seemed to work... until a voice cried out from nearby.

“Carla! No!”

It was Manly Dan.

The eye-bat was distracted, spinning to glare at him until Dan was pulled back behind a bush by several pairs of hands.

“RUN!” were his last words to me, adrenaline already getting me off the ground. But as I went to run, my ankle threatened to crumple and I saw pain bloom in front of my eyes. I cried out involuntarily and the eye-bat swooped down on me instantly, already glowing.

I didn’t even have time to cover my eyes when the violet light hit me.

And then,

Darkness.

 

X

 

Light and sound slowly came trickling back into my head, the darkness slowly oozing away.

“-weakness, tough guy! I’ll make you talk! It’s only a matter of time.”

A horrified scream forced me back to reality, eyes snapping open as I attempted to make out where I was with a spinning head.

Was, was that a nose? On this sofa? What?

“Oh right! Rise and shine Tiny!” An overly cheerful voice chirped.

I was suddenly standing without having moved, staring blearily at a floating yellow triangle. Who was sipping from a glass using... his eye?

“I mus’ta cracked my head h’rder tha’ I thought.” I mumbled, trying to figure out why the yellow triangle was important. Because he was... right? Wait, _he_? How’d I know-

Bill!

Memory came flooding back and with it, so did my anger at the freakish, evil thing in front of me.

Forcing myself to lunge forward, I swung wildly at him.

“You son-of-a-!”

“Woah! That’s no way to treat your host Tiny.” Bill chided, some sort of barrier preventing me from touching him. With a wave of his hand, I was sent flying back to the couch. Landing with a thump, I found myself staring at a pair of disembodied eyes that didn’t match the mouth sewn below them.

“Argh!” The mouth screamed at me.

“Arghh!” I screamed back before falling to the floor.

“Carla!”

Looking up, I was horrified to see Ford suspended against the wall with chains and shackles around his neck and both ankles.

“Ford?”

“Yup! Mr Smartypants won’t give me the teeny tiny equation that will allow me to rule this pathetic little dimension,” Bill hovered behind me, arms clasped genially behind his back. “but he can’t hold onto it forever.”

“He won’t tell you.” I spat, “Not after everything you’ve done. You screwed your chances years ago you creep!”

A flicker of annoyance crossed Bill’s face before he started to laugh madly.

“Oh, oh! I **wish** I’d found you before Stanford! You’d have been far more fun! See this Sixer? Tiny here has spirit! She’d have been a proper challenge. You really were too easy to trick!”

“Fuck off Cipher.” Ford growled.

“All those years ago, if you’d just had the guts to call her... Who knows? I might not have been able to trick you at all.” Bill gloated, floating up to hover in front of Ford. “I mean, you could’ve prevented me from ever breaking through that rift this time, if you’d just listened to Carla here. You should’ve told her about the rift. You should’ve gotten her to help. But in the end? I’m grateful for your constant paranoia-”

“Leave him alone!” I shouted, watching Ford’s face pale and sink. “You caused that paranoia. You screwed him over from the beginning!”

“Oh pipe down sunshine.” Bill snapped his fingers and suddenly there was a zipper across my mouth. Horrified, I tried tugging at it. It didn’t budge an inch.

“Thanks to your incompetence, I was able to destroy yet another piece of your precious family Sixer.” Bill floated over to the wall were a large window came into being, the view focused on the large bubble  covered in chains and a sort of star symbol. “Little Shooting Star is safely locked away in a prison of her own creation, not even I could come up with something as deadly! All I need now is Pine Tree and I’ll have gotten rid of anyone who could destroy me!”

“Stanley!” I gasped out, having finally succeeded in forcing the zipper open. It disappeared under my hands as I sucked in a lungful of air.

“What? That old, good-for-nothing, con man?” Bill cackled as he swooped down in front of me. “Don’t make me laugh Tiny! That dumb loser will hide in that old shack, too scared to even try to rescue you. I’ve seen in his head remember.”

“You have no idea what he’s capable of!” I clenched my fists, trying not to listen to the voice in my head that suggested Bill may be right.

It would be suicide to try to reach us if we were near Bill, and Stan was many things, a con artist, master of duping people, a liar, impulsive, brave... but ultimately he’d survived by keeping himself safe and not doing anything stupid that he couldn’t come back from. Like a suicidal rescue mission.

“Let’s see... one chained up old man, a feisty but tiny, injured old lady... what to do, what to do...” Bill toyed with his tie as he spun to face us. “Oh! I know!”

With a snap of his fingers, I was suddenly wearing my own collar and shackles, except these ones were around my wrists.

“God **damn** it Bill! Leave Carla out of this! She has nothing to do with the formula!” Ford shouted as Bill snapped his fingers again, moving both Ford and I to hang in the air in front of him.

“Oh but don’t you see Sixer?” Bill teased, “She can make you give me the formula... either by herself, or with a little... _PERSUASION_.” He grew larger with a high pitched laugh, giant eye morphing into a horrific, sharp-toothed mouth that swallowed both of us.

Screaming, Ford and I were sent into a free fall, surrounded by pitch blackness and Cipher’s maniac cackle.

 

Landing on a hard surface with a solid thump, our screams were cut short.

“Carla? Carla!”

I was numbly aware of Ford gripping my arm tightly. Reacting on instinct, I slapped him.

“That’s for not telling me about the rift.” I said as I looked around us.

We were in a small room, black walls cut through with sharp lines of blue at crazy angles. No door, no windows, not even a loose flagstone to dig a tunnel under.

“Alright. Where are we? Still inside Bill?” I asked, turning to look at Ford who was holding a red cheek with a shocked look.

“You- you hit-”

“Hit you? Yes. Because you could’ve dealt with this days ago if you’d just said something! You tried to be stoic and brave and look where it’s got us!” I yelled, “Locked up and at the mercy of a demonic creature with a score to settle! You, you, MORON!”

Ford hunched over, looking small and lost. I groaned quietly, remembering how Bill had talked down to him.

“Ford,” I sighed, getting to my knees and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I slapped you. That wasn’t ok, I just- this is a lot to deal with right now.”

“I should’ve told you... Bill was right. I caused all of this.” Ford buried his head in his hands. “And now you’re stuck here too, Mabel’s trapped, Dipper... I don’t know what happened to Dipper-”

“I saw him running away from one of the monsters Bill brought here.” I said softly, shuffling across and gently placing my arm around his shoulders. “He was running for the mall. He’s ok.”

“He is?” Ford looked up with a small glimmer of hope.

“Yes. And if I know Dipper, he’ll be going after Mabel next. And they both know the shack is a safe place. So it’s just us who are in danger now.”

“How did you end up here? You should’ve been in the shack.” Ford frowned.

“Eye-bat. Got me as I was running after Dipper. And I left the shack to find what had happened to you. McGucket said he knew you had a plan, and I figured that if I could find you and get you back to the shack then we might have a -”

“McGucket? _Fiddleford_ McGucket?”

“I don’t know about Fiddleford, but Old Man McGucket’s the local town crazy. Lives in the junk yard, married a raccoon, makes crazy science experiments... fairly harmless. Except for that time he went around biting peoples legs.” I shuddered, “That was a dark day.”

“McGucket... it can’t be a coincidence. Oh god. Did I ruin another life?” Ford sank his head into his hands again. “I should never have come to Gravity Falls!”

“Probably not. I’ve been saying the same thing for the last coupla years too.” I sighed and hugged Ford tightly, sensing he was about to spiral down the path of self-pity. “But we’re here, and we’ve got to deal with it now.”

Ford remained silent and I tugged him back until we were both resting against one of the walls of our cell.

“So. It looks like we’re stuck here until Bill makes another move... I think it’s time we had a little heart-to-heart.”

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to enjoy this?” Ford muttered.

“Because you’ve been avoiding it since you returned.” I stated, ‘Let’s start with the issue of offering for Dipper to stay in Gravity Falls. You know that was stupid right?”

“Why? I have more than enough knowledge to teach him-”

“Ford! He’s 12! He’s not ready to make a big decision like that, not to mention his parents don’t even know you. How’d you expect them to take it?”

Ford stared down at his hands.

“I- I hadn’t thought...”

“No. You didn’t. What about Mabel? You know she feels like you don’t like her as Dipper, that she’s not smart enough for you... remember how upset she was before all hell broke loose! Her and Dipper were inseparable before you came back. Then Dipper starts following you around, pushing Mabel to one side and agrees to do something as monumentally stupid as accept an offer that was stupid to begin with. If we’re not careful, Dipper and Mabel could end up just like you and Stan. Do you want to put them through that?”

Ford sighed and rested his head back against the wall. I waited expectantly.

“No.” Came the eventual reply.

“Neither do I. Everyone in this damn family needs to learn how to communicate more,” I sighed, “then we wouldn’t have had this problem in the first.”

“Stan wouldn’t of believed me.”

“That wouldn’t have mattered. The minute you said you were in trouble, he’d have helped you. I’ve kept trying to tell you that. That’s what Stan does, what he always did, without needing anymore information other then who’s face to punch. You know that, I know you do.”

“I had to do it on my own, had to prove that I was capable of defending myself. That I was capable of not needing Stan to fight people for me... That I could be a proper Pines man.”

I glanced at him, not quite believing that I was hearing Ford echo the words of Filbrick bloody Pines.

“Wait. You didn’t want Stan to help you because you had some sort of complex about Stan being the one who always defended you? And you decided to take your first fighting stand against an almost omnipotent being?” I gave a low whistle. “Next time I’m in New Jersey, I’m gonna go and yell at Filbrick’s grave. Idiot screwed both you and Stan over good.”

“He was proud of Stanley,” Ford said bitterly, “Stanley could punch back, Stan was stronger, Stan got all the girls... it wasn’t until I was offered that scholarship that Pop even started to consider me worth something... and then Stan took it away from me.”

“Which was why you reacted the way you did...” I closed my eyes. “See? Why didn’t you tell me this years ago, you schmuck?! I spent years being mad at you when I should’ve taken it out on Filbrick. And, you know, Stan wasn’t as confident as you seem to remember him as, Ford.”

“What do you mean?”

“He heard everything the day you were offered that scholarship. He told me. He heard what that jackass of a principal said, that he was a dumb loser who’d be stuck in Glass Shard beach forever. And that the only reason he’d ever learnt to punch back harder, to be stronger, was suddenly going to be leaving him behind. He felt like he was losing everything.” I sighed, “Stan’s always said he needed you more than you needed him. That without you, he was just some washed up loser with no purpose in life.”

Ford had been staring at me, mouth open, as I’d been talking.

“He- he really said all that?”

“More or less. Why’d you think he’s spent 30 years trying to get you back? To say I told you so?”

“Then why’s he been so stubborn and angry?”

“Take a look in the mirror Ford! Neither of you have wanted to talk this out because both of you were hurt from mistakes that happened decades ago. Another very good reason why this family needs to talk more.” I huffed and folded my arms with a smile. “I think Mabel was right. You two just need to hug it out.”

At the thought of Mabel, my heart panged painfully.

Had Bill trapped her in that giant bubble outside? How? Bill said it was a prison of her own making... what on earth had he meant?!

I was desperately hoping that Dipper had found some way to reach her and get her out of there.

“I’ve been such a fool, haven’t I?” Ford said meekly.

“I prefer schmuck.”

“That’s such a crass word.”

“Suits you better than fool. Fool implies you’re stupid. Schmuck says you’re a moron.”

“Part of you is loving this, isn’t it?”

“A little. But we probably should figure out what happens next.” I took hold of Ford’s hand softly, reassuring him I was with him all the way now. I mean, what choice did I have?

“We can’t trust Bill at all, he breaks promises as fast as he makes them. I was a fool to-” Ford cut himself off with a sigh, “I was a schmuck to ever trust him.”

“Hey, we all make mistakes Ford. Hell! We’ve all trusted the wrong person at some point in our lives! I trusted a hypnotising hippy who controlled me for about 6 months and ruined my life. Stan trusted a drug lord from Columbia who later tried to kill us both after finding out Stan dumped the product in a river and took off with the cash...” I frowned, “Maybe it was Rico shouldn’t have trusted Stan... anyway, my point still stands. Everyone has trusted the wrong person at some point. Your mistake just happens to be far worse than ours.”

Ford chuckled tiredly.

“Even after all this time, you’re still the voice of reason between two knuckleheads.”

“I consider it my life’s purpose.” I paused and glanced at Ford again.“That formula thing Bill needs? You definitely know it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Don’t tell him, under any circumstances. We have to give the kids and Stanley enough time to make a plan.”

“But what if, what if Bill hurts you?” Ford asked quietly, the silence that followed eerily loud.

“Let him try.” I replied, sounding braver than I felt. “I don’t want you to tell me anything about it, I’m certainly not going to help Bill destroy this world in any way.”

“You don’t know what he’s capable of Carla, he’ll kill you if he has to.”

“Then let him. I’ve lived a long life.” I tried to sound unafraid, “Besides, if I die to protect the rest of the human population, I think I’m ok with that.”

“Stanley will blame me for everything...”

“Ford? He already does.”

“That’s comforting.”

“It’s the truth. But I think he’s willing to let some of that go. They will be coming for us Ford, I just know it. We’ve got to hold on as long as we can.”

 

X

 

“There they are! My guests of honour!” Bill cheerfully announced from his throne as Ford and I landed on the stone floor from the ceiling.

I had no idea how long we’d been locked up down in the dark... but Bill had apparently had enough time to build a throne made of every person in town, all frozen by the eye-bats and stacked horrifyingly on top of one another. Another reminded of just how dangerous Bill was... like we needed to be reminded.

“Remember Ford, no matter what happens, don’t give him anything.” I hissed out the corner of my mouth as we climbed to our feet. Ford nodded grimly, reaching out to lace his fingers through mine defiantly as Bill swooped down to hover in front of us.

“Aww! How cute! Fordsy thinks he can protect his little girlfriend. Not in here pal!”

I shrieked as Bill grabbed me and tore me away from Ford, Bill’s hand suddenly growing much larger and contorting into a cage. Once again, I was trapped inside a monster’s hand.

“Don’t touch a single hair on her head Bill!” Ford yelled bravely, staring Bill down as I watched through Bill’s fingers. “You can do what you like to me, but let Carla go!”

“Do what I like? Hmm I like the sound of that!” Bill fired a beam of blue light at Ford, who cried out and stumbled back. He fell and hit the floor, lying motionless.

“Ford!” I yelled out as Bill focused his attention on me.

“Don’t worry Tiny. You’ll be joining him too!”

The blue light hit me and it was as if my entire body was suddenly two sizes too small. My skin was tight and it burned! God, it hurt!

“Don’t say I never did anything for you Sixer. After all these years, you might finally get a chance.” Bill mocked.

I looked up, gasping through the fading pain, to see Ford back on his feet and looking... 17-years old again?

“What did you do?!” Ford yelled, voice definitely higher and less grizzled.

“I don’t need a thank you. Just take a look at Tiny here. Wow! No wonder you didn’t have a shot with her!”

Glancing down, I was astonished to find myself staring at young, slim hands again. No loose skin, no swollen knuckles, no liver spots... Was I 17 again too?

Wait.

What had Bill meant by “didn’t have a shot with her”? And “Fordsy’s girlfriend”?

.

.

.

Oh for crying out loud! This was the triangular moron’s idea of torture?

“You never had the guts to tell her, did you Sixer?” Bill continued, “But you showed me. Showed me all your favourite memories of her, confessed all those wishes and desires... it was so BORING! But who knew it might actually be helpful one day! And to think! I tried to get rid of you Tiny!” Bill giggled as he turned to me.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but it won’t work!” I yelled back, reaching through the bars of my “cage”.

“Oh no? How much does Sixer want to keep his secrets from you?” Bill asked, Ford seemingly frozen.

“What secrets?” I asked, already aware of the answer as Ford coloured slightly.

“Go on Fordsy. Tell her.” Bill encouraged gleefully.

“Is this about the fact you liked me?” I asked bluntly, staring at Ford as I gave him no choice to hide from this. I was sick of hiding secrets. Bill began to laugh.

“Not just liked Tiny! Downright fantasised about it!”

“You knew?” Ford called out, looking shocked.

“Of course I knew. I just didn’t want to say anything because-”

“Because she didn’t want a pathetic freak like you Sixer.” Bill interrupted gleefully.

“ **Because** , I didn’t want to lose my best friend.” I continued, glaring at Bill before reaching out to Ford. “You were my best friend Ford, I already loved you. Remember what I always called you and Stanley?”

“Yeah, remember?” Bill echoed, his mocking voice really starting to grate on my nerves.

I lashed out at out of the bars nearest me, putting into my punches all the energy and strength my newly renewed 17-year old body could. Bill yelled as I made contact and I continued to pummel him as hard as I could.

“You honestly thought I didn’t know? Guess you don’t pay much attention to humans huh?” I asked angrily as Bill started to glow red, his hand starting to shake more and more until I stumbled and fell back.

“If that was the ace up your sleeve, you failed. It was pathetic and useless! You’ll have to do a lot better than that to break either of us!” I continued to yell, refusing to back down.

“Oh yeah Tiny! Alright then. Catch Sixer!” Bill ordered, suddenly flinging me from his hand.

I screamed as I hurtled towards the floor, landing against Ford at the last second, both of us rolling across the hard floor.

Ford leaned over, shaking my shoulder.

“One of your boys right?” He grinned, despite the monster still behind him.

“From now until forever.” I nodded, noting just how odd it was to see Ford so young again.

Ford nodded and got to his feet, facing Bill.

“I won’t let you hurt her Bill!” He yelled, standing protectively over me.

Bill seemed to pause, slowly shrinking back to his usual size before sitting in midair and regarding Ford closely.

“Who says you get a choice Sixer?” He asked quietly.

I noticed the glowing chains snaking back around Ford’s ankles.

“Ford, the chains!” I cried out, feeling something yank me up and off the ground by my wrists. It looked like my chains had come back too.

“I never intended to use his pathetic little crush against him,” Bill sneered as Ford turned, mouth open. “I needed him to have something to lose. And you played that part perfectly Tiny.”

I kicked out uselessly as he floated closer and grabbed my chin despite my struggling.

“Now Sixer has something to fight for, someone to save, to be the hero. I didn’t do any of this to torture him. I did it to torture you.”

I screamed as a crackle of electricity sparked from Bill’s fingers and ran right through me, white hot pain flooding through me as I thrashed against the chains.

“BILL!” Ford roared, charging forward, only to find his chains securely fixed to the floor.

“Now, here’s the new deal Sixer,” Bill turned from me as the last of the electricity drained away, leaving me whimpering. “you either let me into your mind and give me that formula willingly, otherwise, you’re going to have to watch poor Carla here suffer.”

“You’re insane!” Ford snarled, pulling at his chains. Bill rolled his eye.

“No duh, why do you people keep getting surprised by that?”

“Don’t, tell him, anything!” I got out through gritted teeth, still aching. Bill laughed.

“Told you she had spirit Fordsy! Wanna see how long it takes me to break it?”

I caught sight of Ford’s horrified face right before Bill zapped me again, eyes screwing shut as I screamed.

 

X

 

A steady, and highly irritating, tapping noise was all I could hear as my eyes opened again.

I was lying face down on a golden floor, through which the tapping was verberating. My body felt like it was made of lead as I moved my arms to push myself up. My arms wobbled violently, only just managing to hold my weight as I sat back on my knees. I stared at my hands.

Oh.

Old again... when did that happen?

“Oh Heavens to Betsy! You’re alright Mrs Pines!” A heavily panting and Southern voice cried quietly.

I turned to find little Gideon Gleeful tap dancing like his shoes were on fire as he stared with wide eyes at me.

“I thought for sure Bill had killed you too! It was awful!”

“Gideon? What are- can you knock of the dancing kid?” I rested a hand against my forehead with a frown. “I have a hell of a headache starting.”

Gideon whimpered, tears forming in his eyes.

“No! Bill won’t let me! It’s my punishment for letting Dipper go rescue Mabel!”

“Dipper rescued Mabel?! When? Where? HOW?”

“My feet are really starting to hurt.” Gideon sniffed. “I just want it to stop! I never meant for thi-”

“Gideon! What about Mabel and Dipper-” I was cut off by an agonised howl, Gideon’s face going pale as he looked behind me.

“Oh no, oh no, OH NO!” He shuddered violently, a green tinge creeping over his face as he shuffled his dancing backwards. “He’s doin’ it again!”

“Doing what-“ I turned to see what Gideon was staring at and my words died as I saw the awful scene in front of me.

Ford was attached to the wall of the pyramid, chains around ankles and wrists, hanging far above the floor. He didn’t even seem conscious, just sagging against his restraints. Bill was in front of him, surrounded by his horrifying group of creatures, all encouraging him on.

Bill cackled and shot a bolt of light at Ford, and I bit down on my hand to muffle my own pained cry as Ford violently contorted with a scream as the electricity hit him.

I wanted to turn away, wanted to close my eyes and let it all be a bad dream... but I could remember what that electricity felt like, like fire running through you, veins being replaced with streaks of molten metal...

Bill finally eased as Ford fell silent. Deathly silent.

I became aware of Gideon’s whimpering again.

“He killed him. He’s killed him again. Why’s he doing it Mrs Pines? **Why**?”

I couldn’t breathe.

Ford couldn’t be dead!

Not after all the hard work Stanley and I did to get him back! Bill couldn’t just win!

“Oh dear. Looks like Sixer’s gone again.” Bill sighed theatrically, “Humans just don’t last long, so pathetic.”

**No!**

Bill snapped his fingers and I was shocked to see Ford gasp for breath, even as there was still smoke spiralling from his coat from the last electrical surge.

“I.. won’t.. tell you!” Ford gasped out, clearly exhausted.

“Come on pal! We used to be best friends!” Bill slung an arm around Ford. “Just tell me the equation I need and all this pain can go away. Whaddya say huh?”

I was still holding my breath as Ford raised his head with difficulty.

“No.”

Bill sighed.

“You’re not making this easy Sixer.”

“Won’t... Won’t talk.”

“Have it your way pal!”

Bill fired three bolts in quick succession, Ford’s screams loud enough to cover my own.

“Ford!” I screamed, throwing myself at the bars of the cage, desperate to help him, only to be thrown backwards as I hit the same sort of shield Bill had projected around himself.

I rolled heavily, crashing into Gideon who fell with a loud yelp.

“Mrs Pines!” He cried out, one pudgy hand grabbing mine.

“I’m ok Gideon.” I reassured as I sat back up, Gideon resuming his dancing. “I guess we’re not getting out of here any time soon.”

Gideon squeezed my hand tightly as Ford’s screams started again, heard over the laughter of the monsters.

“What are we gonna do Mrs Pines?” Gideon asked quietly, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Despite everything Gideon had tried to do to Stan and I (including summoning Bill to invade Stan’s mind), I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He’d been watching Bill torture Ford for a lot longer than I had, he’d known Bill was going to kill him and then bring him back just to start all over again. No one deserved to be watching this. Especially not a kid of his age.

I got to my knees in front of him, taking hold of both his hands.

“Look at me Gideon Gleeful,” I ordered, “look at me and only me. We’re gonna get through this. We’ll get out of here. I promise. Bill hasn’t won yet.”

Gideon focused on me tearfully, nodding slightly as his feet continued to beat out an annoying rhythm.

I had no idea how we were going to get out, or if anyone could stop Bill at all... But at least now, neither of us were watching Ford die over and over... even if all we had for company was his screams.

 

Several hours later, Gideon and I had managed to stay facing away from Bill’s little game of torture. Between his constant dancing, Gideon had told me how I’d passed out after Bill had continued to torture me (although, I was fairly certain I must have died, only to have Bill bring me back like Ford, given how Gideon seemed to be avoiding the subject), which was when Ford had cracked and begged Bill to swap our places. That Bill could do anything to Ford, but he had to stop hurting me first. So Bill had tossed me into the cage with Gideon, who hadn’t recognised me until whatever trick Bill had used to make me seem younger, had worn off.

Gideon hadn’t spoken since Ford’s last “death”, but he still clutching my hand tightly.

“No! No! Noooo!”

I winced and tightened my grip on Gideon’s hand as I buried my head into my shoulder.

“Aaaagh!”

“Ready to talk now?” Bill asked.

All I could hear for a moment was Gideon’s feet. Until Ford gasped out an answer.

“I won’t. I won’t let you into my mind.”

“What do you think, pals? Another 500 volts?” Bill asked.

I whimpered, covering my mouth with my free hand. How much longer would this go on?!

But there was a new noise to be heard in the pyramid, now Ford’s screams had faded.

A dull thumping was approaching from outside, even Bill seeming to hear it.

“Hey, do you hear that?” He turned to his group of cronies, momentarily distracted from Ford.

A giant T-Rex head crashed through the wall of the pyramid and bellowed out a roar

Gideon shrieked and covered his eyes as I stared in horror. Bill was less than impressed.

“What?! I just fixed that door!”

I stared at the T-Rex head.

It was mechanical?

It pulled back and I could just make out the shape of the Mystery Shack through the destroyed rubble. I stared in disbelief.

It was the Shack! And was, was that Soos? Standing on top holding a flag?!

“It’s the Shacktron, dude!” Soos yelled cheerfully, waving the flag that appeared to have a decapitated head stuck to the top.

Bill let out a low growl as he stared at it.

“So, the mortals are trying to fight back, huh?! Adorable! Henchmaniacs, you know what to do! Take them out!” He ordered.

“No!” I yelled out, Gideon grabbing me as I went for the bars again.

“Mrs Pines! Don’t! You’ll get hurt again!”

“Yeah. Listen to the tap dancing bundle of fat Tiny.” Bill had floated up to take his place on his horrific throne of frozen townspeople again. “Of course, when Sixer finally gives me that formula, you’ll get hurt anyway.”

“You won’t win Cipher.” I growled through the bars at him. “You’ll never get out of Gravity Falls.”

“You think so? Well if I’m never leaving, you can bet you’re not leaving Gravity Falls either... alive that is.” Bill flicked the cage, sending Gideon and I to the floor again.

“Hey Cipher!” Ford yelled, “You aren’t done with me yet! Leave ‘em alone!”

“He’s so eager to die again. Enjoy the show kids.” Bill said brightly as he swooped back over to Ford.

“Mrs Pines! Mrs Pines!” Gideon tugged on my hand. “Look!”

I glanced at the Shack again.

It had been transformed into a giant, mechanical monster! Made out of other monsters it seemed. And it was fighting back! Everyone inside was fighting back! And thanks to Ford’s magic with the unicorn hair, the monsters couldn’t get the better of it! They actually had a chance of winning!

“I told you Gideon!” I hissed as I watched one of Bill’s henchman go flying across the horizon. “We’re getting out of here!”

Bill had turned as another of his henchmen had ran away screaming.

“Guys, seriously? You had like, one job to do here.”

I almost laughed at the tone of his voice, elated that our family and friends had found a way to even the score. Ford was sensing the same feeling of victory, despite his chains.

“Bravo, Dipper and Mabel!” He cheered.

Bill turned with what could only be described as malice.

“Well would you look at that? Those kids really care about you. And you care about them...” Bill’s eye glowed red. “ _Don’t you?”_

“No.” I whispered as Ford stared at Bill.

“What are you... Oh. Oh no!” Ford started to tug uselessly at his chains.

“Perhaps torturing those kids will make you talk... since Tiny was a waste.”

“No. No! Not the kids! You ca-” Ford was cut off midsentence as Bill transformed him into a golden statue, features still yelling at Bill silently.

“No!” I called out, unable to do anything as Bill thumped Ford down on the arm of his throne before moving towards the newly exploded hole, growing gradually.

“Sit tight Tiny,” he snarled as he passed. “once my pest problem is sorted out, I’ll start the torturing all over again! This time I won’t stop until you’re dead at Sixer’s feet! That’ll get him to talk!” Bill began to climb outside. “Now! Let’s get this over with.”

I was caught between staring helplessly at the golden Ford and the battling Shack that contained my family. Bill grew a giant fist and slammed it down on the shack.

I gasped, breath leaving my body as a cloud of dust was raised and hid the battle from view.

No! They couldn’t be- Ford’s barrier, he said the Shack couldn’t be damaged, the weirdness waves didn’t affect it, but Bill...

...hadn’t crushed them!

The shack was still there! Bill couldn’t touch them!

“What the? No! No! No! **No!** **NO!** ” Bill screamed, rapidly growing multiple arms and repeatedly pounding the shack which remained shaken but undamaged.

I cheered loudly, Gideon dancing over to join me.

“Look Mrs Pines! Up there!” He pointed excitedly.

Flying through the air was our rescue party!

Even from here, I could see Mabel cartwheeling towards the pyramid with an excited shout. She followed by Dipper, Stan, Wendy, Soos, McGucket, Blubs... The survivors! Everyone was ok!

They pulled their parachutes, a weak laugh escaping me as I saw they were made of Mabel’s sweater collection. Everyone landed roughly on the floor of the pyramid, I winced as Stan landed on his face.

Gideon and I were too high up for them to see us immediately, but they saw the throne of frozen townspeople and gasped.

“Oh, man. It looks even worse close up.” Dipper said, my heart thumping happily to simply be hearing his voice after so long.

Mabel shot her grappling hook up and swung herself onto the arm of the throne with a determined expression.

“I found Great Uncle Ford!” She yelled, tossing her grappling hook back down to Dipper. “He’s golden, but not in the good way!”

“Great! Grab him, find Carla and let’s get out of here!” Stan yelled back, just as Dipper appeared next to his sister.

“But how are we gonna unfreeze them all?” He asked.

“We know! Over here!” Gideon called out, tapping his way towards the bars.

Mabel and Dipper turned with gasps as they saw us.

“Grauntie Carla!” Dipper shouted.

“Carla?!” I heard Stan ask frantically from below.

“I’m up here Stan!” I got to me feet, fighting the urge to sob as Mabel and Dipper came as close as they could.

“Grauntie Carla, Gideon! What happened to you guys?!” Mabel asked.

“Bill captured me. He’s been forcing me to do cute dances in the cage for all eternity. I’m so tired of being cute!” He sobbed.

“I was caught looking for Ford.” I explained, taking hold of Gideon’s hand again.

“So how do we undo this?” Dipper asked, glancing at Ford’s frozen state.

“Mayor Tyler. He’s the load-bearing human. Pull him out, and the whole throne comes down.” I explained as I patted Gideon’s shaking shoulders.

“Ok, hold on guys!” Mabel yelled encouragingly as her and Dipper turned back to the throne. “We’ll get you down soon!”

Dipper grabbed Tyler’s arm and tugged him out, Tyler’s stone form rattling before he gasped and turned back to normal. Within seconds, a chain reaction had been started as every resident of Gravity Falls came back to life, tumbling down into a giant pile of groaning, muzzy people. Edwin Durland tumbled further than most, hitting the cage and knocking it free. Gideon and I screamed as we hit the floor, the cage door breaking open and setting us free.

A large hand reached in and grabbed me, pulling me out quickly.

“Carla!”

I hardly had time to notice Stan standing in front of me before he had enveloped me in his arms and was attempting to crush me to him.

“Ya alright! God, I thought you were dead! Ya can’t do that to me!” He scolded as he pressed multiple kisses to my head. I squeezed him back tightly, tears finally falling after days of trying not to think about how I might never have seen Stan again, never expecting to get out alive, never getting to hold Stan again. Relief surged through me at the steady, familiar heartbeat under my ear, all the terror of the past week vanishing as I sunk against him and trusting him to hold me up.

“Don’t _ever_ run into something dangerous without me again!” Stan continued. “I thought ya were dead baby. Please, I don’t wanna live in a world without ya.” He whispered, his voice finally breaking as I felt something wet against my hair.

“I love you too Stan.” I cried quietly. “I’m so glad to see you again!”

Stan pulled back and cradled my face in his hands, gently wiping my own tears away.

“I’m never letting you outta ma sight again.” He said firmly, leaning down and kissing me hard.

Gideon scrambled out of the cage and tore off his sequinned sailor suit.

“No more SAILOR SUIT!” He cried, Stan and I breaking apart.

Wendy ran past, grabbing her dad and brothers, pulling them into a tight hug.

“Wendy!” Manly Dan yelled.

“Guys!” Wendy practically sobbed as they all fell to the floor together.

Mabel and Dipper were helping Ford to his feet as he unfroze.

“Kids! Ah, you did it! I knew I could count on you!” He grinned as they hugged him, his smile dropping as McGucket approached us all. “Fiddleford... I- I haven’t seen you since we, ah, parted ways. You must hate me.”

“I’ve tried forgettin’. Maybe I should try forgiving. Come here, old friend.” McGucket held his hand out, pulling Ford into a hug. I smiled softly.

It was nice to see two old friends reuniting. Maybe there was still hope for someone else. I nudged Stan gently as he scowled, prompting him to address Ford.

“Hey, good to see ya again, bro. Now let’s get outta here, huh?”

Ford frowned at Stan as Dipper tugged on his arm.

“Listen, Uncle Ford, we don’t have a lot of time. Remember how you told me right before you were frozen, that you knew Bill’s weakness?” Dipper implored.

“Yeah, a secret way to defeat him?” Mabel added.

“That’s right!” I stepped away from Stan, towards Ford, Stan grabbing my hand tightly. “McGucket said you had a plan! That was the whole reason I risked trying to find you.”

Ford glanced at us, a surprised expression on his face.

“I- I do!” He pulled on a pair of gloves as he looked around, already planning something. “Now does anyone have a pen? Pencil? Anything?” He spotted a rolling can of spray paint and snatched it up as Robbie Valentino protested. “Ah. Perfect!”

Dipper glanced around the pyramid as Ford began to draw  on the floor with the paint.

“Uh, we’ve got Bill outside for now, but I don’t know how long we can keep him occupied.”

“Yes, yes. Good, good.” Ford replied absently as he continued, gently nudging me back as he went past.

“Drawing a circle on the floor. Well, he’s lot his mind.” Stan muttered. I rested a hand on his arm.

“Stan...” I whispered quietly in reprimand. “If this works, we can get rid of Bill.”

“My mind is fine. And there is a way to beat Bill. With this.” Ford finished his drawing, standing back to reveal a large circle filled with ten random symbols.

Pacifica pulled a face as she walked over.

“The world’s most confusing game of hopscotch?” She asked snarkily.

Ford glared at her momentarily.

“No. A prophecy. Although it would be a pretty fun game of hopscotch. Many years ago I found ten symbols in a cave. Some I recognized then, some I only recognize now. The native people of Gravity Falls prophesied that these symbols could create a force strong enough to vanquish Bill. With Bill defeated, his weirdness would be reversed and the town could be saved. This whole time I thought it was just superstition. But seeing you all here now, I finally understand that its destiny. Dipper, the pine tree. Mabel, the shooting star.”

Stan and I watched as Mabel and Dipper stepped onto the respective symbols without hesitation.

“The question mark? That one’s unsolvable.” Soos pondered, everyone staring at his iconic Mystery Shack question mark shirt.

“That one’s easy dude!” Wendy pushed Soos onto the symbol with a grin.

Dipper pointed at the star across from him.

“The Tent of Telepathy sign! That must be Gideon!”

“Whoo! An excuse to stand next to Mabel!” Gideon smiled as he took his place.

“Are they seriously believing this mystic mumbo nonsense?” Stan groused next to me as Mabel frowned at Gideon.

“Yes. And so am I. We need to work with him right now Stan.” I said firmly, determined to do whatever Ford needed of us if it meant destroying Bill for once and for all.

“Hold hands everyone. This is a mystical human energy conduit.” Ford instructed as he stepped onto the six-fingered symbol.

“Ice? Who’s ice?” Dipper asked, glancing to his side.

“The symbols needn’t all be literal Dipper. It just has to be someone cool in the face of danger.”

“Wendy, Wendy!” The local teenagers all began to chant as they crowded behind her.

“Hehe, shut up you guys.” Wendy grinned as she stood in her place before looking across at me. “I reckon you’re that one Mrs Pines! The stitched heart!”

“What?” I asked, brow creasing.

“She’s right Grauntie Carla!” Mabel chirped, “You keep everyone together! You’ve been slowly stitching Grunkle Stan and Ford back together for the past few weeks!”

“Alright then.” I squeezed Stan’s hand tightly before hesitantly stepping onto the circle next to Ford, who smiled encouragingly.

“Right. Much like the spectacles just need to be someone scholarly.” He pointed out.

McGucket fiddled with his odd green glasses and crabstepped onto the circle with a nervous laugh.

“Ok. Now this is freaky.” Pacifica said as she looked down at the llama sweater she was wearing before standing on the llama symbol next to McGucket.

“Now hold hands everyone!” Ford urged.

I took his hand without hesitating, twining our fingers together tightly as nerves fluttered rapidly in my heart.

After a brief discussion about Pacifica taking hold of McGucket’s hand, we were all holding hands tightly. Gideon squeezed my hand for reassurance as thunder rumbled outside, both of us expecting Bill to return any second as smoke began to rise from the circle. An eerie glow began to surround all of us standing on the circle, a tingle of electricity beginning to run through us.

“Great Uncle Ford! I think it’s working!” Dipper called out nervously.

“Hoohoo! Heehahahaha!” McGucket laughed excitedly, not seeming the least bit perturbed.

Ford grinned, looking around at everyone.

“Yes! This is it!” He twisted to face those townspeople not needed in the circle. “The rest of you get out! It’s too dangerous!”

Everyone fled as the glow began to get brighter, all headed for the exit. I hoped fervently that they would be ok.

“We just need one more person... Stanley! Stanley, get over here! You’re the only one left!” Ford said urgently. I glanced to the empty space beside Ford, noting the odd symbol.

That fish-shaped symbol!

“Stan! It has to be you.” I faced him, not surprised to see his scowling face.

“You realize this is a bunch of hogwash right? You all really think some caveman graffiti is gonna stop that monster?” He asked, staring at us all.

“Dang it old man! Now’s not the time!” Gideon yelled angrily, Wendy and Pacifica joining in.

“Come on!”

“What are you doing? You’re gonna ruin this!”

“Stanley,” I said softly, “we need you to do this. **I** need you to do this. Please.”

Stan sighed heavily, about to speak before Ford snapped at him.

“Stanley! Step on the darn circle!”

“Whoa! Hey. I am not the enemy here! Did you forget who literally created the end of the world.”

I squeezed Ford’s hand, Ford sighing in resignation before turning to his brother.

“I’m sorry Stanley. I know. Just help me fix it, please.”

“Fine.” Stan folded his arms. “Just do one thing. Say ‘Thank you’.”

“What?” Ford stared.

“Oh for god’s sake.” I muttered. We didn’t have time for this!

“I spent thirty years tryna bring you back into this dimension, and you _still_ haven’t thanked me! You want me to shake your hand? Say ‘thank you’!”

I bit my lip, dropping my head as I silently agreed with Stan. Ford huffed in frustration.

“Fine. Thank you.” He said, none too sincerely.

Stan begrudgingly strode over and took his place between Soos and Ford, grabbing their hands.

“Ya see? Between me and him, I’m not always the bad twin.” Stan muttered to Soos.

“Between ‘him and me’.” Ford said flatly, giving Stan a side eye as we all stared at the two brothers in disbelief. “Grammar, Stanley.”

“Stanford.” I hissed as Dipper and Wendy gasped, Stan starting to shake slightly.

“I’ll “grammar Stanley” you!” Stan yelled, letting go of Soos’ hand to punch Ford in the jaw. “You stuck up son of a gun! I mean, come on!”

Ford stumbled back, releasing my hand.

“Don’t jeopardize this, you idiot! Everything’s on the line!”

“Stanley! Get back on the circle!” I yelled, “This is ridiculous!”

“Guys! Stop it!” Mabel yelled, letting go of Gideon and Pacifica as she ran over to separate Stan and Ford. Dipper did the same, grabbing Stan around the waist as I leapt out of the circle to try and break up the fight.

“This is not important!” I scolded as I helped force them apart as they kept taking swings at each other amid their shouting.

“Just join hands!” Dipper pleaded as Mabel tugged Ford back.

“We need to work together! We have to defeat... Bill...” My words died as I spotted Bill climbing back into the pyramid.

“Oh no, it’s Bill! Isn’t that what you’re all thinking?” He asked, suddenly glaring at Gideon. “Hey, Gideon, why aren’t you dancing? Chop chop huh?”

Gideon whimpered and tried to hide behind Pacifica, who had gone pale.

Ford and Stan stilled, Mabel and Dipper reaching for me as Bill approached, laughing.

“Ha ha ha ho! This is just too perfect! Didn’t you brainiacs know the zodiac doesn’t work if you don’t all hold hands? And what’s better, you’ve brought every threat to my power together in one easy-to-destroy CIRCLE!”Bill sent a ring of fire along the circle, forcing everyone to jump back in fear as the symbols were burnt into nothing!

“Oh no!” Dipper cried, Ford’s face falling slack as he realised.

“No.” He whispered.

Bill stretched out and grabbed Ford and Stan, Stan tossing something down to me as he struggled.

“You guys wanna see what happens to your friends when you can’t get along?” He threatened easily.

McGucket shook a bandaged fist at Bill with a frown.

“Hey! You give them back!”

“You’ve gone too far Cipher!” Gideon yelled as I slipped Stan’s brass knuckles over my fingers with a grim expression.

“We’re done running from  you Bill!” I raised a fist threateningly.

“Yeah! We’re not scared of you!” Wendy ran over, twirling her axe. McGucket pulled his banjo out and waved it around fiercely.

Bill lifted his other hand as he laughed at us.

“Oh, but you should be... YOU SHOULD BE!” He snapped his fingers and everyone, except Stan, Ford, Mabel and Dipper, floated up off the ground with cries of alarm. I spun slightly, catching sight of Stan’s horrified expression as he struggled to stretch an arm out to grab me.

Mabel and Dipper stared up in terror.

“Oh no!

“Ah!”

“You know something, this castle could really use some DECORATIONS!” Bill boomed as one by one, Gideon, Pacifica, McGucket, Wendy, and Soos were turned into banners, their faces contorted in a silent scream as the banners neatly hung themselves on the wall while leaving one perfect blank space... I whimpered at the realisation it was meant for me, reaching desperately for Stan’s outstretched fingers as Bill laughed.

“Enjoy your last look Tiny! Welcome to an eternity of loneliness!” Bill snapped his fingers again just as my finger tips brushed Stan’s. I started to scream just as my world went black, Stan’s frightened face emblazoned in my mind.

 

X

 

“Mrs Pines! Mrs Pines!”

Someone was shaking me gently as I came too, wincing as the bright light of the sun hit my eyes.

“Come on Carla! It’s over! We’re ok!” Pacifica’s voice was nearby and I lifted a hand to my head to shield myself from the light.

I was sitting in the middle of the town’s main road, Gideon’s hand on my shoulder and Pacifica looking on with a faint smile as her parents had their hands on her shoulder.

“Wh-what? What’s over?” I asked slowly.

“Bill’s gone!” Gideon grinned. “The pyramid is gone and everything’s back to normal!”

“What?!” I shot to my feet, staring around in shock as I saw everyone in town cheering, smiling and dancing in the completely restored town.

“We won! You were right Mrs Pines!” Gideon hugged me tightly. I patted his back softly as I scanned the crowd, searching for four faces in particular.

I spotted Wendy with her family and untangled myself from Gideon before running over. Strangely enough, my previously injured ankle felt good as new.

“Wendy!” I grabbed her arm before hugging her tightly. “What happened? Do you know?! Where are the twins?!”

“I- I don’t know Carla.” Wendy looked around, biting her lip. “I just remember it being dark and then I was waking up here! Has Bill really gone?”

“I hope so Wendy.” I sighed, gently ruffling the hair of her youngest brother. “Have you seen Soos?”

“He’s over there!” Wendy pointed. “Just waking up.”

“Thanks hon.” I rushed off as Dan gathered his kids close to him again. “Soos!”

Soos turned and dragged me into a tight hug.

“Mrs Pines!”

“Are you alright? Nothing wrong? Where are the twins?!” I asked.

‘I’m fine dude. But I can’t see them! Oh man, what if something bad happened to them?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” I said shakily, already imagining the worst, “everything seems to be normal. Maybe they woke up first.”

“D’you think the Shack’s back to normal?” Soos asked, fiddling with his cap.

I stared at him. That’s where they had to be!

“The Shack!” I turned and began to push through the crowd, Soos calling after me.

“Wait, Mrs Pines! Wait for me! I’m coming with you!”

He caught up to me and we sped down the road, towards the one place in town we hoped to find our family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! Steve the treant made another appearance!   
> ANd if you squint hard enough... you can see the remnants of my first idea of an angsty, love-triangle between Carla, Ford and Stan! So glad I tossed most of that in the trash before writing this. Could you imagine how confusing it all would have gotten?! >.<  
> We're so close to the end! I just wanted to thank you all for getting this far and I promise it won't take me two weeks to get the next chapter posted x


	27. August 2012 - Losing You is the Hardest Thing

August 2012

 

I could hear Soos panting behind me as we ran down the dusty, dirt road that led to the shack.

My own lungs were burning and my old knees were definitely beginning to complain. But I couldn’t slow down, couldn’t stop.

I needed to find the rest of our family.

Bursting into the familiar clearing, I gaped at the wreckage of the shack.

“No.” I whispered hoarsely, stopping dead in my tracks. Soos wasn’t far behind, almost crashing into me in his haste.

“Woah dude!” Soos steadied himself and caught sight of the house. “Aw man! Where is everyone?”

“I, I don’t know.” I suddenly felt exhausted. Slumping over to rest against my knees, I fought back tears.

I couldn’t remember anything after Stan and Ford had broken that stupid circle and Bill had them trapped. I remembered the pure fear in Stan’s eyes, and then waking up in town.

**What had happened?**

Bill was obviously gone, but how?!

And where were the twins? And Ford? And where was Stanley?! How was the shack the only thing not returned to normal? It had withstood Bill’s attacks! Why was it destroyed now-

“Dude, look! Over there Carla!” Soos grabbed my arm and spun toward the other side of the clearing, the unusual use of my name snapping me out of my thoughts.

I stared unbelievingly.

Mabel and Ford had just entered the clearing, looking extremely worn. They were closely followed by Dipper, who was holding Stan’s hand.

My heart leapt.

They were ok! They were all alive!

“Alright dudes!” Soos punched the air in excitement.

“Stan, Ford, kids!” I yelled, pushing myself to run across the clearing with Soos.

Ford spun at the sound of my voice, dashing across and meeting me halfway.

“Carla!”

As Ford stopped me, his arms curving around me, I caught sight of Mabel’s face as Dipper let go of Stan to join her. Mabel looked sad, her eyes red and puffy... had she been crying? Why? We won, right?

Ford hugged me tightly and for a moment, I pushed Mabel’s expression from my mind as I hugged him back, grateful to find him alive.

“Carla! I’m so sorry, about everything! I never thought I’d see you ag-”

“What happened? Is Bill really gone? How? Why weren’t you all back in the town with us?” I interrupted his apologies, relief causing my questions to spill out unchecked.

Ford was quiet, releasing me with a quiet sigh.

I watched over Ford’s shoulder as Soos reached the twins. He knelt and pulled them both into a tight hug, Mabel starting to cry. A sense of unease began to settle in my stomach.

Soos leaned back in confusion and Dipper said something, shaking his head sadly as he hugged Mabel tightly with one arm. All three of them, as one, turned to look at Stan, who was standing where Dipper had left him, staring at the shack with a curious expression as he scratched his head.

The sad expressions on the kids faces, Ford’s silence, Stan’s lack of reaction to seeing us and the destroyed Shack... that sense of unease deepened into something colder and far worse.

Eyes still on Stan, I moved away from Ford and took several steps forward.

“Stanley.” I murmured, heart pounding from... what? Hope, excitement? Fear?

Ford grabbed my hand tightly, stopping me from going any further.

Carla, wait. You need to know something.” He said softly, his eyes not meeting mine. A stab of that icy fear struck harder and I felt my throat tighten.

“What happened?” I repeated my earlier question shakily.

“Stan, he, I...” Ford sighed and glanced at his brother wretchedly. “Stan saved us all, he defeated Bill.”

There was something in his tone.

“How?” I asked, the world seeming to slow as I waited.

“Stanley tricked Bill into his mind. We swapped clothes and Bill thought Stanley was me, and then, then we,” Ford’s voice wavered, forcing himself to take a breath before continuing, “I erased Stan’s mind. It destroyed Bill.”

“What?” My gaze swung dumbly between Ford and Stan. Was Ford saying what I thought he was saying?

“Stanley’s memories are completely gone,” Ford sounded miserable, “he doesn’t remember anything or anyone from his life.”

I gasped, vision swimming as my knees shook violently and I sank to the ground in shock, clutching Ford’s hand like a life line.

“Grauntie Carla!” Mabel came running out of nowhere and flung herself at me, tears running down her own face. I grabbed her tightly, still trying to process what Ford had just told me as my own tears started.

Dipper walked over solemnly with Stan, leaving Stan next to a distraught looking Soos before approaching me. I finally let go of Ford’s hand and clutched Dipper to me as tightly I was holding Mabel.

“I’m so glad you two are ok.” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut so I didn’t have to see the blank confusion on Stan’s face. Pressing kisses to the twin’s heads, I hugged them fiercely before reopening my eyes to look at them. “I was so worried. No more defeating evil without me, ok?”

Dipper sniffed and buried his face into my shoulder as Mabel looked up with watery eyes.

“Gr-grauntie, C-carla!” Mabel hiccupped as I reached up to wipe her tears away. “Gr-grunkle S-stan, hi-his mem-memories!”

“I know sweetheart, I know.” I soothed through my own tears, reality finally sinking in. The world was saved, but I’d lost my Stanley.

“We should all go inside.” Ford said sadly, turning away as he rubbed his neck, clearly at a loss for what to do next.

Dipper was the first to move away, wiping his eyes roughly as he walked towards the shack.

Mabel and I stood, her hand snaking into mine.

Dipper thumped the door in frustration, suddenly throwing himself at it as we all began to walk over to him, Ford gently guiding Stan.

Dipper repeatedly threw himself at the old, twisted door until it give way with a tortured groan, falling into the partially destroyed hallway.

My heart thumped painfully at the sight of the wreckage inside, Mabel slipping from my side to take hold of Stan’s hand.

As she walked towards the door with Stan in tow, Dipper joined her in leading Stan back into his home of 30 years.

“Hey, this is a real nice place ya got here.” Stan commented jovially, my throat closing tightly as Ford helped me inside, Soos following us.

“It’s **_your_** place Grunkle Stan.” Dipper explained as we all entered the front room.

I almost laughed at the sight of the old yellow recliner. That thing had actually survived an apocalypse! Stan would’ve laughed if he... well, if he had his memories of it. I sobered at that unpleasant reminder of reality.

“Don’t you remember? Even a little?” Mabel gently pushed Stan into the recliner, worry etched over her face.

“Nope. But this chair hugs my butt like it remembers. Ah!” Stan settled himself, a choked laugh finally escaping me at seeing him do something so familiar. Ford placed his arm around my shoulders comfortingly as Soos twisted his cap in distress.

Stan looked over at us, resting on each of us in turn.

“Hey, why the long faces? You guys look like it’s someone’s funeral.”

I covered my mouth with a sob, looking away as fresh tears threatened to fall. Stan focused on me in concern.

“Who’s the pretty dame who’s cryin’?” He whispered to Dipper, who just looked away sadly. Stan turned to Mabel instead. “And who’s the big guy crying in the corner?”

Soos sobbed and Ford reached out to him, but Soos just turned away.

“We saved the world, but what’s the point? Grunkle Stan’s not himself anymore.” Dipper said dejectedly.

“There’s gotta be something we can do to jog his memory.” Mabel insisted, glancing at Ford in hope.

I held my breath, desperately praying that Ford had an answer, that maybe not all hope was lost.

That my Stanley would come back to me.

“There isn’t. I’m sorry. Stan’s gone.” Ford sounded lost, letting go of me to curl in on himself.

My heart dropped heavily, my eyes meeting Stan’s as he stared at me with an open, trusting gaze that felt like a blade twisting in my heart.

Where could you start? How could you approach the person you’d loved all of your life, knowing they didn’t have any idea who you were?

“I _know_ my Grunkle is in there somewhere. There's gotta be something around here that can help bring him back!” Mabel spotted the corner of her scrapbook sticking out from beside the recliner and pounced on it before climbing up next to a bewildered Stan. “This'll work! This has to work! Here's the first day we came to Gravity Falls, Grunkle Stan. That’s you standing there with Grauntie Carla.”  

I smiled sadly at the photo. Mabel had been a flurry of excitement that first day, unshakeable excitement, despite Stan’s natural grumpiness. She’d stolen my heart immediately and when she asked to take a photo of Stan and I, I’d allowed my own impish side out and stolen Stan’s fez. Despite his protests, I eventually coerced him into posing with my flower shaped hair pin tucked in his hair while I balanced his fez on my head proudly. It turned out to be an appropriate introduction to the craziness we were on the verge of at that time.

“And here's a macaroni interpretation of my emotions.” Mabel continued, flipping the page.

Dipper climbed up on Stan’s other side, pointing at the page with Mabel.

“That time we went fishing? That Summerween we spent together? Don't you remember anything?” He asked desperately.

Stan scratched his head with an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what this is, or who you are or-”

Waddles suddenly appeared with a snort, scaring the living daylights out of me as Mabel continued to point out more photos in desperation. Waddles trotted over, sniffing at Stan’s shoes before nudging the scrapbook away and scrambling up onto Stan’s lap.

Stan pulled a face as he grabbed the pig.

“Gah! Quit it Waddles! I’m tryna remember my life story!”

Everybody gasped, my heart feeling like it had stopped.

“What did you say?!” Dipper asked.

“I said get _Waddles_ off of me!” Stan grumbled as he stood, placing the pig back on the floor.

Ford grabbed my shoulder, the joy on his face clear.

“It’s working! Keep reading!”

“Yes, don’t stop now sweetheart!” I encouraged Mabel, watching Stan intently as he continued to grumble to himself about Waddles. Soos approached the recliner, placing his cap back on his head.

“Skip to my page! He needs to remember our boss-employee relationship!”

“Hey, just cuz’ I have amnesia, don’t go tryin’ to give yourself a raise, Soos.” Stan glared as he sat back down.

Dipper was just about vibrating with excitement.

“It’s happening! Keep going!”

Mabel grinned, flipping through the pages.

“Okay, okay. Day two. Grunkle Stan smells weird, but we’re starting to bond. He told us a lot about being a business man in the 80’s and seemed happy when we pretended to listen. Grauntie Carla let me give her a makeover, her hair is SUPER soft-”

“Carla!” Stan suddenly shot up, wide eyed as he faced me. “Carla McCorkle! I knew I recognised you!”

I laughed, despite everything that had happened.

“I would hope so after 30 years together.” I teased, watching Stan’s face crease slightly.

“Wait. We’re still together?” he asked.

Ford suddenly fumbled in his pocket, pressing Stan’s wedding band into my hand.

“Sorry. I kept hold of it. Didn’t want to cause anymore confusion.” He explained. I clenched my hand around the ring in my palm, weighing my choices. Looked like I’d have to come clean about another long con.

But once glance at Stan’s equally confused and hopeful face, my courage crumpled.

“Mabel. I need your grappling hook.” I asked suddenly.

Mabel looked surprised but offered me the weapon without protest.

“I’ll be right back, keep reading Mabel.” I said, hurrying back out into the hallway. Ford followed me, concern on his face.

“Carla, what are you doing? Stan’s getting his memory back, he needs you.”

“Ford, Stan and I were never really married,” I confessed quietly, “he was legally dead at the time. I can’t explain that to him until I know he knows all about our relationship. And his death.”

“So why the grappling hook?” Ford took me confession in his stride easily, only the smallest trace of surprise showing.

“The stairs are broken.” I stated, taking aim at a distant beam and firing.

Once my feet landed on the least damaged piece of floor, I began to pick my way through the wreckage of the house to find what I needed.

 

Lowering myself back down onto the hallway floor, I could hear Mabel and Dipper talking excitedly.

“Wait. Stanley really did all of that?” Ford sounded disbelieving.

“Yeah dude! It was awesome!” Soos exclaimed.

I walked back into the front room, an old shoe box tucked tightly under my arm. Stan was the first to notice me, flashing me a shy smile that caused my stomach to flutter hopefully.

“The two gremlins here said ya helped me fight off a hoard of zombies... that true?”

“Yes, we really did that. Took days to get rid of that grave smell out of the house.” I smiled.

“And did I really punch a pterodactyl in the face?”

“Yeah! It was amazing!” Mabel chimed in, punching her fists in the air as Stan grinned.

“What are you holding Grauntie Carla?” Dipper asked, squinting at the box under my arm suspiciously.

“Oh? This?” I held the box out and shook it softly, the sound of things moving inside catching everyone’s attention. “I figured that if Mabel’s photos of just this summer can jog Stan’s memory, then imagine what photos from the past 40 years can do.”

Mabel grinned and scrambled up onto the arm of the recliner, giving me space to sit rather snugly against Stan’s side.

“Heh. Now this feels familiar.” Stan grinned, a very obvious blush spreading across his face.

I resisted my natural instinct to peck his cheek, instead settling for a coy smile and patting his knee gently.

“It should be. We’ve shared this chair for 30 years.” I lifted the lid off the box on my lap, revealing the decades of photos, memories and all the other small mementos of a life well lived.

“Oooh! Old person photos!” Mabel cooed, leaning forward over my shoulder.

I dug around for a moment, knowing exactly which photo I wanted. Succeeding in finding the well-aged, black and white photo, I lifted it out with a faint smile.

“Wow! Is that you and Grunkle Stan, Grauntie Carla?” Mabel asked in shock, Dipper and Ford both craning to see as well. “You were so pretty!”

“What do you mean ‘were’?” I chided with a small laugh. “Though I suppose the years may have been cruel. But yes, that is me. And that’s Stan holding me up.”

“Woah! That’s so cool!” Dipper grinned as I passed the photo to Stan, who held it like it was made of glass, examining it closely.

“We were 17, in the summer we started dating.” I prompted hopefully.

I, I think I can remember this...” Stan said slowly, gently touching the photo with a fingertip. “I couldn’t believe that an absolute knockout gal would date a schleb like me.”

Ford snorted and thwacked Stan’s shoulder lightly.

“Neither of us could. It’s still a mystery to me.”

“Watch it Poindexter. I could still break you.” Stan retorted breezily as he reached into the box for another photo.

I grinned manically at Ford, the same inane grin mirrored on his face.

“You called me Poindexter.” Ford said happily.

“Yeah? I always called you that.” Stan picked the box off my lap and started to hunt through it properly.

“Hey look! It’s the sign for the shack!” Dipper pointed out. Stan held up the photo of him dressed in his original Mr Mystery outfit, complete with that tacky tie, as he stood proudly by the first proper sign we had made for the Mystery Shack.

“God, I hated that tie.” I groaned with a smile, “I was so happy when Gompers ate it.”

“Gompers ate so many of my t-shirts dawg.” Soos chimed in, a giggle leaving my lips before I could help it.

After everything we’d been through recently, I was so relieved to be able to laugh again.

Stan gave me an odd grin.

“Why’d ya let me wear that thing if ya hated it?” He asked.

“You insisted. Said it suited the whole Mr Mystery persona.”

“Mr Mystery... hey! I remember that! How’d I come up with that?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember.” I shrugged, right before realising what I’d just said, to Stan of all people. “Oh, right, wrong word-”

“Guess that makes two of us who don’t remember then baby.” Stan winked exaggeratedly and this time it wasn’t a giggle that escaped me, but a proper laugh.

Everyone else soon joined in, the wrecked house filling with the happiest sound I’d heard in days.

 

X

 

A few days later, after Mabel and Dipper had dragged Stan out for another jaunt around Gravity Falls to continue filling in his memory, I heard a loud banging and cursing coming from Ford’s room.

“Hello?” I knocked on the door, peering around to find Ford tussling with a large box in the cupboard. “Need a hand?”

“Huh? Ah, Carla, no, no. Everything’s fine.” Ford sat back on his heels, hair mussed and glasses askew.” I was just, uh, looking to see if-” Ford sighed, straightening his glasses with a sad glance at me. “I don’t seem to be able to find any of my old photos Ma gave me when I moved out here.”

“Oh is that what you’re looking for? I presumed you were trying to find Narnia.” I teased. “Come on, all that stuff’s still in the attic. We just packed your clothes and sciency junk down here. Or some of it at least.”

Ford walked up the newly repaired staircase with me.

“You kept everything?” He asked as we entered the attic, now looking back to its usual messy self since Mabel and Dipper had been able to move back into it.

“Of course. I think it’s... there! That one” I pointed out the correct box tucked behind the curtain that had served to hide the worst of the mess.

Ford tugged it out, sitting down with it there and then on the floor. I joined him as he peeled the old tape off and pulled it open eagerly.

“So why were you looking for this now?” I asked, peering into the box.

“Because, if I’m right, this box should contain old home movies.” Ford began pulling plenty of old photos and various other items out of the box, along with a healthy layer of dust. I coughed and wafted away the dust as Ford drew out a reel of film triumphantly.

“Aha! Got it! Wait, where’s the Star of David Ma gave me?”

“Check the Christmas decorations.” I smiled at Ford’s confusion as I stood. “Stan’s not the only one with catching up to do. I think we still have an old projector down in the museum. You can get it set up for tonight. The kids would love to see you and Stan being little terrors.”

“Ah, actually. I was thinking maybe it would be better if it was just Stan and I.” Ford looked down nervously.

I understood.

Ford had been devoting himself to helping Stan, working harder than the rest of us. We’d all found him and Stan asleep on the new couch in the mornings after spending all night retelling childhood stories and apologising nonstop for everything that had gone wrong between them.

“Well, I suppose they’ll understand,” I patted his arm, “but I’m joining in. I have a few old home films too. From the early years here. No idea where I left them though.”

“When are you going to tell him you’re not married?” Ford blurted out. I sighed, Ford colouring.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t of, it’s your choice-”

“No, it’s alright Ford. The only reason I haven’t told him...” I trailed off as I stared out the window, blankly taking in the view. Why hadn’t I told Stanley that yet? I was carrying his fake wedding band around in my pocket, trying to find the courage to bring it up... and yet I hadn’t. Why? What was stopping me?

“Are you scared he’ll react badly?” Ford asked softly, interrupting my thoughts.

“I suppose so,” I pursed my lips, “no. No, that’s not it. Stan’s been doing so well, even with the bad memories.”

“Tell me about it.” Ford shuddered. Only the other night, Stan had woke up screaming as he recalled some of his worst nights on the street, sobbing uncontrollably  and blindly fighting us away as he tried to convince himself that we were the dream and any second he was going to wake up alone, freezing and starving down an alley somewhere. And then there was the time he remembered about Thistle after hearing Dipper talking about hypnotising music. That had been a spectacular blow out, until he’d calmed down and reread the letter I wrote to him years ago about it. We never knew how Stan was going to react to his memories until it happened, everyone learning to roll with it until Stan had calmed and we could help him.

“I think I’m just worried it will add more confusion, telling him that everyone thinks we’re married and yet we’ve been lying this whole time. If he doesn’t remember that, but he does remember the happiness and the love... then I’m ok being Miss Carla McCorkle for the rest of my life instead of Mrs Carla Pines.” I smiled out the window. “I mean, despite never truly being married, I always felt married to him... if that makes sense. Ford?”

I turned when I didn’t get a response, mouth falling open to find Stanley standing in the door way, Ford glancing between us with a horrified look. Stan was staring in shock at me and I immediately reached out to him.

“Stan, no, how much did you-” Even as I asked, I knew he’d heard enough.

“We, we aren’t married?” Stanley asked, voice echoing disbelief. I shook my head slowly.

“No.”

“But we told everyone that we were? Why? Why not just **not** get married?” Stan demanded, voice rising, Mabel and Dipper appearing behind him.

“What’s going on?” Dipper asked.

“You asked me to marry you.” I ignored Dipper, my attention focused on Stan. “Proposed to me in the lounge and you had a ring... but we couldn’t get married.”

“Wait, what now?!” Mabel stared, but Stan seemed to be ignoring everyone except me now.

“Why not?”

“Because,” I hesitated before clenching my hand and plunging on When you fall off the edge of a cliff, there isn’t much you can do except to continue to fall... and hope the impact doesn’t cause too much of a mess. “Because according to the government, Stanley Pines was legally dead. We agreed to just lie about it, heck, people already thought we were married! It was easier to just go with it.” I pulled the gold band out of my pocket, rubbing my thumb over it before holding it out. “Here. I was going to wait and see if you remembered before giving this back, but you know now.”

Stan took the ring from my fingers and I let out a shaky breath, fighting back the urge to scream.

“Now. They finally finished putting the shop back in order, so I’m going to go and ran do a stock take. Still have a business to run.” I walked out of the room purposefully, feeling the eyes of everyone in my family glued to my back. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

I’d always known that it was going to be hard to explain to Stan about our sham marriage, I’d just hoped that it would happen after Stan remembered it himself. Not after overhearing me like that.

I mean, at least I hadn’t said that we’d been faking our entire relationship right? Except... to a still recovering Stan, I suppose I had. I’d torn down the fragile foundations of what he’d thought he’d known, in just a few sentences. The one thing I’d been trying so carefully not to do over the last few days. Who knew what this would do now...

I briefly contemplated going back upstairs and facing the fall out... except, for once, stock taking sounded more appealing.

 

“CARLA!”

I dropped the clipboard I was holding in shock as Ford came sprinting into the gift shop, door slamming back loudly on its new hinges.

“Carla! Have you seen Stanley?!” He asked frantically, scanning the shop as if expecting to just see Stan standing between the cheap t-shirts and monster masks.

“Not since earlier. Weren’t the twins talking about going through their summer adventures with him again?” I could feel fear crawling up my back. If Ford was already this panicked, it could not be good.

“Damn.” Ford clenched his fists. “We can’t find him. He’s slipped away somewhere.”

“Maybe he’s just outside somewhere, taking a look around to see if there’s anything he remembers.” I suggested, despite the gut-churning fear of Stanley rediscovering the Bottomless Pit and falling in it, **_again_**. Not to mention the general danger of the Gravity Falls’ woods.

“We’d best find him.””Ford looked grim. ‘I don’t trust his sense of direction yet.”

“I didn’t trust his sense of direction before he lost his memory.” I joked, knowing it was a poor attempt at humour right now.

Thankfully, Ford seemed oblivious.

“I’ll get the kids and Soos, we’ll spread out and try to find him. No, we will find him.” Ford planned out loud.

“I guess I’ll stay here and see if he shows up then.” I offered.

“Sounds like a plan Grauntie Carla.” Dipper entered the shop with Mabel in tow.

“Yeah! We’re gonna be like Ducktective! Hunting down clues, finding the bad guy and locking him up before throwing away the key!” Mabel yelled excitedly, brandishing her notebook and pen.

“No, no. Mabel, no.” Dipper frowned at his sister.

“Oh. Right. Just finding Grunkle Stan.” Mabel grinned sheepishly.

“Ok. Listen up people. I have a map of Gravity Falls.” Dipper climbed up onto the counter. “Soos! Get in here!”

“Sup dawg. What’s going on? Did we find Mr Pines yet?” Soos ambled into the gift shop. “’Cause I’ve been checking behind the fridge, he isn’t there.”

“Great idea Soos!” Mabel encouraged, “You always lose stuff behind the fridge!”

“No, guys,” Dipper smacked his palm against his face before pulling out his map. “Just focus, here? Thank you. As I was saying, I have a map of Gravity Falls. Everyone is going to take a quarter of it and go and search that part of town for Grunkle Stan.” Dipper neatly ripped the map into four pieces and handed them out. “Grauntie Carla is going to stay here in case Stan comes back before one of us finds him. Everyone got it?”

As everyone nodded and headed for the exit, Ford glanced at me. Striding over, he pulled me into a tight hug. Ever since Weirdmageddon, Ford had taken every opportunity to express himself through hugs. Which was one of the better things to come out of such an awful time.

“We’ll find him Carla. I promise. Just try not to worry.” He said quietly.

I snorted and pushed him back with a raised eyebrow.

“Right. The love of my life, who found out rather rudely that we were in a sham marriage this morning, is now MIA with a dodgy memory, no one knows where he might be and I’m supposed to _not_ worry?”

“I suppose it was a careless suggestion.” Ford agreed as he fiddled with his glasses.

“Go on Ford. The quicker you lot search, the quicker I can stop worrying.” I shooed him away with a wan smile. Ford returned my smile with one of his own before bounding out of the door.

Following after him, I watched as he disappeared into the forest.

“Where’d you go Stanley?” I whispered quietly to the wind.

 

About an hour later, I was pacing around the gift shop. Pausing, **yet again** , to fiddle with the same mystery box I’d been uselessly moving every few minutes, I tried again to quell the anxiety rising in me for the millionth time.

No one had come back to the shack yet and it was driving me insane not being able to know anything.

As if the world had heard me, the bell above the door of the gift shop tinkled merrily.

“Oh thank god.” I muttered to myself as I spun round. “Did you... find... him...” the words died on my lips as I saw Stan standing shyly in front of the door, arms held behind his back.

“Uh, hi.”

“Hello.” I gave him a relieved smile, my anxiety disappearing. Stan smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck the way he always did when he was embarrassed or about to be caught out about something.

“So, ah, I- I, um, got ya sumthin’...” He said gruffly, bringing out a slightly wilted and squished bouquet of daisies. My heart melted.

“Oh, Stan,” I whispered, a lump appearing in my throat, “you remembered my favourites.”

“Heh, well, I know they ain’t the prettiest-” Stan started and I leapt forward to stop his dismissive words.

“I love them.” I smiled, taking the flowers from him. Stan had clearly picked them himself, the flowers bunched together in that clumsy, organic way that showed they’d been gathered in one hand hurriedly as they were picked.

I smiled and brought them up to my nose to sniff them, when I happened to catch sight of the golden gleam on Stan’s finger.

“You’re wearing your ring!” I exclaimed in surprise, Stan jumping before glancing down at it.

“Oh. Yeah. I was thinking about what ya said this morning, and suddenly it just felt weird to not be wearing it, ya know? Like I suddenly realised something had been missing for days, and just, **bam**! It was staring me in the face.” Stan finished his rather explosive explanation with a sheepish glance at me, rubbing his neck again. “And once I put it on, I started to remember more about us, everything we’ve done, everything we’ve survived. Kinda a lot to deal with so I went for a walk to, uh, clear my head and then I found those flowers and I remembered that ya always liked ‘em and well, you know...”

I smiled down at the flowers before  gently placing them on the nearest shelf, reaching out to rest a hand on Stan’s upper arm.

“While I’m glad that you remembered us, and that you aren’t upset, and those flowers were incredibly thoughtful and sweet... you scared us all to death. We couldn’t find you anywhere. You can’t just do that to us.”

Stan pulled a face, but stayed where he was.

“Aw come on Carla. I’m not useless ya know.”

“I know hon, but after everything you’ve been through I just don’t want to let you out of my sight for long. Neither do the others.” I sighed, my emotions the usual unsettled swirl they had been for days. A nauseating mixture of happiness, relief, worry, despair and absolute heartbreak every time Stan encountered a blank where a memory should be... especially when he didn’t remember something between us.

I went to move away, despite my brain begging to just throw myself at Stan and take comfort in his hold like I’d always been able to do in the past. But Ford and I had decided that it would be best to let Stan re-initiate that when he felt ready. We didn’t want to push him too far, too fast.

Stan quickly covered my hand with his, stopping me from moving.

“That’s another thing. Stop pulling away ya daft old woman.” Stan teased, taking advantage of my stunned silence to pull me close. The second I was enveloped by his arms, that familiar scent of him surrounding me, tears sprung forward and I couldn’t keep them in any longer. I wrapped my arms around his waist tightly, anchoring myself to him as just for a moment, the world seemed to be completely normal again.

“Ya know I could never actually forget you right?” Stan said quietly, a choked laugh escaping through my tears.

“I have memories that say otherwise.”

“I’m tryna have a sweet moment here.” Stan grumbled.

“Alright. Sorry, I’m done.”

“Right. I was tryna say that I wouldn’t forget ya. Ever. It might have taken a little while to remember, but you mean too much to me. You’re the love of my life, it’s always been you. And I hate the way ya’ve been looking at me lately, especially when ya think I’m not looking. Like ya think you’ve lost me forever. You’ll never get rid of me.”

I suppressed a sob, pressing my head against Stan’s chest harder.

“Stan, I did almost lose you. And I couldn’t bear it. A life without you... that isn’t a life I want to be a part of.”

I felt Stan huff quietly before leaning back.

“Come here ya mess.” He said gruffly, raising a hand to wipe away my tears as his own were clearly visible.

I smiled weakly at the gesture, laying my own hand over his where it rested on my cheek. Stan was watching me with gentle eyes, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“Ya know... those kids reminded me that for a short while, the world ended. Meaning this is after the world ended...”

I tilted my head at him in confusion. That seemed a strange tangent.

“Wha- What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I have a question for you.” Stan was grinning fully now, looking much like he did when he was reeling in a con. I didn’t like being on the receiving end of that smile, or being thrown off balance like this.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I frowned slightly.

“Geez. I thought I was supposed to be the one with the the bad memory.” Stan teased, a glimpse of his old bravado shining through.

“Hey! You **DO** have the bad memory mister.” I rebuffed, poking him in the chest. This brief moment felt as natural as it had for years, like nothing had changed between us. Stan raised an eyebrow cockily.

“Yeah?” He challenged.

“Yeah!”

“Wanna kiss on it?”

Stan’s question came from nowhere and I felt the air leave my body in shock.

That- that was our thing!

The way we sealed every agreement, every bet, every challenge... the way we made up after every argument.

Stan was watching me for a reaction, cocky smile slowly slipping.

“Wa-was that, that was **us** , right? It feels like it is, but ya know, my memor- umf!”

I cut Stan off with a kiss, all but throwing myself at him as sheer elation ran through me.

This was what I’d needed! What I’d been waiting for!

A definite sign that my Stanley was still in there, that I hadn’t lost him entirely, that we wouldn’t be starting from nothing.

Stan was quick to tighten his arms around me as he kissed me back, lifting me off the ground slightly.

“Ya ruined my punch line Carla baby.” Stan smiled as we parted, an equally large grin no doubt plastered over my own face.

“Oh? And what was that?” I didn’t care what corny, terrible line came out of Stan’s mouth next, just happy to have the man I loved back.

“That you owed me a kiss. You promised me a kiss after the world ended.”

“After I threatened to haunt you if the portal killed us.” I added slowly, my own memory throwing up the moment Stan was talking about. “You remembered that?”

‘I’d never forget a bet over a kiss with such a pretty girl.” Stan winked and I laughed, all the fear and worry and anguish of the last few days finally being banished from me.

“Oh, shut up and kiss me you old goat.” I teased, Stan grinning and lifting me up yet again.

“Whatever the lady wants.”

 

X

 

Later on, I found myself curled up next to Stanley on the couch, Ford bringing in a tray with three steaming mugs.

“Thanks Sixer.” Stan took a mug with a grin, not seeming to notice the slight wince that crossed Ford’s face. I took my mug with a grateful smile and sympathetic glance.

Ford was still coming to terms with a life free of Bill’s influence. Which included remembering the better associations to certain words. Like “Sixer”.

Ford had even been brave enough to play a game of chess with me the other day. He’d lost (for the first time I could ever remember), but he’d played the whole game and even managed to enjoy it. And he’d enjoyed it even more when Mabel had offered to play and promptly began to cheat in her own sweet way. Ford hadn’t been able to stop laughing as Dipper joined in, and a miniature  war broke out with me and Mabel on one side of the table and Dipper and Ford on the other as Soos kept score of our made up attacks and moves.

“So. What movie is next then?” Ford asked as he sat back down on Stan’s other side, glancing at the box on the floor.

“Give me a minute here Ford,” I teased, “I’m still coming to terms with the fact you two actually found the Jersey Devil.”

“Ya really never believed me?” Stan asked, still chewing on toffee peanuts. “I told you all the time.”

“But it was _crazy_. Or it was until I started living here. You had no proof of it!” I protested, shifting to throw my legs over Stan’s lap.

“Show her Sixer.” Stan nudged his brother, Ford grinning and pulling out the new sketchbook Mabel had gotten him. It was filling rapidly as Ford sketched memories for Stan, scenes from around the town, pictures of the twins when they weren’t looking, even me and Stan. Ford flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

“It was all true Carla.”

I skeptically examined the beast drawn there.

It resembled a sleek dragon, having been painstakingly inked in red, it radiated menace. Or it would have if Mabel hadn’t glued googly eyes on it and drawn a speech bubble that said “I’m a stupid poophead” above it.

Hardly the stuff of the terrifying, childhood legend my Granny had scared me with.

But, it seemed to be a treasured memory between the two brothers. Who was I to take that away from them?

“Why’d ya think we ran round in those helmets baby?” Stan asked.

“To keep you from running into walls?” I teased, reaching up to ruffle his hair affectionately as Stan squawked. “Alright, alright. **Fine**. You boys found the Jersey Devil and it was real.”

“Thank you.” Ford went to close the book, chuckling at Mabel’s modifications before pulling an old camcorder tape from the box. “This says “Birthday 92’”. Your handwriting Carla.”

“Stick it in.” I snuggled back against the cushions, Stan’s arm tucked behind me head.

Ford fussed around for a while, but the soon the tape started.

_The camera focused unevenly on the wood grain of the floor, the sound of the TV clear in the background. A set of dainty feet in purple shoes started walking, flashing in and out of focus as the floor of the Shack passed by. There was a glimpse of wallpaper as the camera was lifted._

_A younger Stan, already out of his dress shirt and jacket, was in the recliner and oblivious to the camera as it got closer._

_“Ahahhahaa! TV. It knows what I want.” He laughed._

_A small hand sneakily took hold of the remote and clicked the TV off, Stan jumping and looking around in annoyed shock._

_“Hey! I was watching that!”_

_“Happy Birthday!”_ (Carla recognised her voice from behind the camera)

_Stan’s annoyance eased immediately, an easy grin sliding into place._

_“Not just my birthday baby.”_

_“Oh right. And a just as happy 40 th birthday to Ford, wherever he is.”_

_“And here’s to eight years of happily “married” life!” Stan chuckled, making a mock toast._

_“Thanks for being the best fake husband a fake wife could ask for.”_

_“Ya gonna put the camera down anytime soon? ‘Cause I’m getting lonely over here Mrs Pines.”_

_“Yeah, yeah Mr Pines. Hang on.”_

_The room shifted and jerked crazily as it spun, a much less lined version of Carla’s face coming into shot, her tongue poking out slightly as she balanced the camera on top of the TV before stepping back in triumph, hands on hips as she grinned._

_“So are ya considering breaking the birthday rule?” Stan asked from behind her._

_“Nah. I’m saving that for something real special. Like 50.” Carla giggled and slid onto Stan’s lap. “So I hope you don’t mind kisses and cuddles as gifts again!”_

_Stan laughed loudly as Carla proceeded to cover any available inch of skin in light kisses childishly while wrapping her arms around him._

_“Why are ya filming this you dork.” Stan teased as Carla eventually settled against him, tucking her head against his shoulder._

_“I don’t want to forget this.” Carla smiled, “Not one second of our lives, even the normal, boring stuff. Because it’s never normal or boring here, as long as I’m with you.”_

_“Have you been drinking again?”_

_“Not yet. This is normal sappy Carla.”_

_Stan chuckled, his hand rubbing her back as he settled back._

_“You make me so happy Stan.” Carla said softly, the camera picking up the love struck smile on Stan’s face that Carla couldn’t see._

_“Ya sure you haven’t been drinking?” Stan rebuffed awkwardly, displaying his usual inability to accept genuine emotion. Carla just rolled her eyes with a faint smile._

_“Just wanted you to know that. It’s been a little tense lately, what with the...” Carla left her sentence hanging, Stan picking it up easily._

_“With the basement. Yeah. I know.”_

_A silence fell as both of them contemplated that loaded sentence._

_“Do you really think we can do this?” Carla asked, finally lifting her head. Stan grunted noncommittally._

_“It’ll take a miracle and even then- probably not.”_

_“Million to one odds huh?”_

_“My kinda odds baby.” Stan grinned confidently and Carla leaned in, kissing him sweetly._

_Stan’s hand crept around her waist, fingers inching for the hem of her shirt as Carla shifted over his lap._

_The kiss clearly grew deeper before Carla pushed away with a gasp and cheeky smile._

_“Camera Stan.” She warned, cheeks flushed._

_“Meh. Leave it running. Something interesting to look back on.” Stan goaded, grinning wolfishly as he started to pull Carla’s shirt up._

_Carla giggled and swatted his hands away before scrambling off his lap to run towards the camera._

_“You’re terrible Pines.” She chided, leaning over the camera to switch it off._

_“Which is why you can’t get enough.” A large set of hands slid around Carla’s waist, staring to dip lower just as the camera went black._

 

I coughed, embarrassment colouring my cheeks while being glad my legs were over Stan’s lap. It seemed someone had just clearly remembered the sleepless and exhausting night that followed that particular video.

“So I take it you had a good 40th birthday then.” Ford eventually said wryly.

“Pretty good it seems. You?” Stan asked, sounding all for the world unaffected by that memory.

“Don’t remember.” Ford automatically blurted out, shrinking slightly as I arched an eyebrow at him. “Alright. It was terrible. I think I had to run for my life. Or maybe it was the one where I was unconscious... wait, did I even remember that birthday-”

“Ok, ok. We’re sorry we asked.” Stan waved a hand at him.

“You didn’t tell me about your “anniversary” though.” Ford gave us a shrewd look. “Did you pick that date on purpose?”

“Actually, it was by complete luck.” I shrugged, not surprised when Stan drew a blank. “When we came up with our plan to lie about being married, we just picked the next weekend available to put it into action. Pure and sheer coincidence I’m afraid.”

“Oh...” Ford seemed a little put out, shaking his head softly before looking up with a smile. “But, ah, it’s nice to know you still wished me a happy birthday too. Makes the memory of what I was going through on those days a little less terrible in some way.”

“You were never far from our minds Ford.” I reassured as Stan patted my leg softly.

“Yeah Sixer. I lost my mind, and I **still** knew that you’re the older one of us.”

“I had to tell you that! You just kept saying you were the alpha twin!” Ford protested.

“Nuh uh! I already knew you were older, and I AM the Alpha twin!”

“Are not!”

“Am so! I'm the Alpha twin, and you're the nerdy twin! A baby could see that!”

“You’re impossible!”

“Well you’re impossible times infinity!”

“Gah! That doesn’t even make sense!”

I shook my head with a fond smile.

I was fairly certain I was getting a word for word re-enactment of an old home film that we’d watched earlier, except instead of being 8 year olds, Stan and Ford were now in their sixties-

Ah.

Nope, I decided as Stan tossed a bunch of toffee peanuts at Ford, Ford responding with a pillow, they were still 8 year olds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All together people!  
> "AWWWWW!"  
> Can you believe we're only one chapter away from this being over?! :( I don't want this to be over.  
> Oh well... See you at the end folks!


	28. September 2012- Goodbye Isn't Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are... the end of the road, the conclusion of the tale and the credits of the movie.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> And I totally didn't procrastinate over this by telling myself that right now would be the perfect time to throw myself into a 5 year old quilting project instead of facing the emotions of finishing the story :P

August and September 2012

 

My heart swelled happily, watching Mabel and Dipper blow out the candles on their birthday cake together. They absolutely deserved this day of celebration after everything they’d been through this summer. The crowd exploded into cheers as Blubs and Durland fired the canon to officially signify Mabel and Dipper’s blowing out of the candles. The new thirteen year olds were quickly enveloped by Wendy and her friends before Pacifica forced her way through the crowd to push two presents towards them.

“Hey, you two. When are you gonna open your presents already? I broke a nail wrapping them.” She sniped, trying to seem disinterested as Mabel and Dipper laughed knowingly.

Leaving the twins to continue open presents, I snagged three slices of cake to place on a plate and headed in the direction I’d last seen Ford and Stan. They’d vanished not long after the canon had sounded, without even so much as a word or gesture.

I headed around the side of the Shack, heading for the back porch.

Ford had been attempting to avoid me all morning, always managing to keep the twins or Stan between us and dodging my questions. I was beginning to get rather suspicious.

“-got a problem. Weirdmageddon has been contained, but I’m detecting some strange new anomalies near the Arctic ocean.”

I paused by the corner of the Shack, eavesdropping as I heard Ford talking. What did he mean when he said anomalies? And in the Arctic?!

“I want to go investigate it, but I think I might be too old to go it alone.”

My heart stuttered slightly as I realised where Ford was going with this, my fingers tightening on the edge of the plate I was holding. No wonder he’d been avoiding me if this had been his plan.

“Are ya sayin’ you need someone to sail around the world with ya in an adventure of a lifetime?” Stan asked tentatively, the hope in his voice clearly evident. My throat tightened at that hope, knowing that Stan would drop everything for that chance, and that included me. Not that I’d ever stop him from doing so. If Ford truly was offering to sail around the world with Stan...

“I don’t just want _someone_ to come with me Stanley, I want it to be you.” There was a pause before Ford continued. “Will you give me a second chance?”

“ _Say yes, say yes, say yes._ ” I whispered under my breath as I waited.

“You think we’ll find treasure? And babes?”

I snorted at Stan’s answer, abandoning my hiding spot before walking round to join the two men. I caught sight of the old photo in Ford’s hand, a young Stan and Ford posing proudly with the original treasure they’d found as kids. I’d seen him taking sneaky looks at it when he thought no one was looking lately. Guess I knew why now.

Stan grinned as he turned to me, only slightly embarrassed about his answer.

“Uh, any chance ya developed a hearing problem just now and **didn’t** hear me say that?” He bluffed.

“Not a chance.”

“So... whaddya think baby?”

“Well, I _was_ going to tell you to go, but if you’re just gonna go looking for some new _babe_ to put up with your dodgy memory...” I grinned as I offered him the plate with the cake. “I’ll even help you pack sweetheart.”

Stan grabbed a slice of the cake from the plate, laughing as he did so.

That’s why I love ya baby.”

“Uh huh. We both know I’m the best treasure you’ll ever find.”

“And my favourite babe.”

“Damn straight mister.” I held the plate out to a smiling Ford, his smile slipping as I tugged the plate back at the last minute. “And you? Is this why you’ve been avoiding me all morning? Scared I wouldn’t like your little plan here?”

Ford rubbed the back of his neck with an apologetic grin.

“Maybe.”

Before I could offer the plate back back and let Ford know I wasn’t really upset,  a slew of words came tumbling unchecked from his mouth.

“I know, I know, I should’ve talked to you. Stanley’s your husband, and I shouldn’t hav- but I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and seeing Mabel and Dipper celebrating just- I’m sorry about every problem I  caused. You were there for Stan when I should’ve been and I almost took him from you, and I can’t change what happened, but I can try to make things better now. And I want too. I’m sorry you guys had to struggle to fix my failures, and I wish things had been different, but you did so well, you made a life for yourselves in ways that I would never have been able too. And if it wasn’t for you both, I’d never have come home-”

Stan and I exchanged an alarmed glance as Ford rambled.

“-I know I’m asking a lot Carla, but I _really_ want the chance to make things up to Stanley, and I really did discover anomalous signals, probably not life-threatening, or maybe they are, but working together, we cou-”

I leaned forward and shoved a chunk of cake into Ford’s mouth to get him to stop.

“Ford. Shut up.” I smiled as Ford spluttered, eyes wide in surprise and indignation as Stanley laughed himself stupid next to me.

“If ya could see ya face Sixer! Carla got you good!”

Ford mumbled something in retaliation as he chewed through the cake. I took my chance.

“I’m not upset that you didn’t tell me about this Ford. And I actually agree with you. Shocking, I know. But I think you and Stan should go sailing. Just please stop apologising, I’ve already forgiven you, you putz. We’ve all made mistakes, we’ve all done something stupid. But, unlike most people our age, we **have** been given a second chance here. So I say you do it. Just make sure you keep him from flirting with things that want to kill him.”

“Hey!” Stan protested.

“Spider lady at Mystery Mountain.” I reminded him as Ford cleared his throat.

“I think I can do that.” He extended his hand with a smile.

“Then I guess you’re going sailing boys.” I announced happily, shaking Ford’s hand.

“Really? You’re ok with this baby?” Stan asked as I leaned against him to eat the rest of the cake I’d used against Ford.

“Yes. I mean, I’m not thrilled at the prospect of being here by myself, without knowing exactly where each of you are... but this was always your dream Stan. I’m not going to stop you, what do you take me for? Some sort of harpy?”

“I’ve met a harpy before, or at least the multi-dimension equivalent.” Ford piped up, reaching for the last slice of cake. “Trust me, you’re no harpy Carla.”

“Reckon we could find a harpy in... wherever harpies come from, Harpy-land?” Stan asked. I rolled my eyes fondly.

“Greece Stanley, Harpies come from Greece.”

“Technically, they come from the Greecian Underworld.” Ford corrected, smirking slightly in victory as I raised an eyebrow at him and got a comeback ready.

“You nerd.” Stan rebuffed before I could.

“Why don’t you come with us Carla?” Ford asked with a look that said he was already calculating the space all three of us would require. “A third set of hands could only be more valuable at sea than two and-”

“Woah genius. Let me stop you right there. Carla doesn’t do boats, on any type of water.” Stan put a hand up to stop his brother’s suggestion. “Trust me. Last time I convinced her out on the lake, it didn’t end well.”

“I told you not to make me do it.” I muttered, “I like to feel the earth beneath my feet, I’m happier on dry land.”

“Plus you projectile vomit.” Stan added crudely.

“God, Stan, seriously?” I complained without heat as Ford pulled a face.

“Ah. Right, so no sailing for you then.” He agreed.

“No. But someone has to stay behind to look after the Mystery Shack anyway. And I’ve grown pretty fond of Gravity Falls. I don’t think I want to leave anytime soon.”

“Oh, yeah. Heh. What should we do with the Mystery Shack?” Ford asked, glancing at the building.

Stan wrapped his arm around my shoulders with a dismissal noise.

“I think the town’s had enough mystery for one lifetime. Are ya thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’ baby?” He asked, glancing down.

“I guess it’s time then.” I smiled sadly at the wooden home beside us. “We’ve had a good run...”

“You’d really do that?” Ford asked, “You’d really give up a 30 year business, just like that?”

“If it’s what we have to do, then yes.” Stan sighed, “Carla can’t run the place by herself, she’s getting too old ta have to work full days, oof!”

I elbowed Stan’s side with a scowl.

“Watch it mister. I’m only two months older than you.”

“You still don’t need to be working all day just to keep a roof over ya head.”

“How about we sort all of this out after the twins have gone home. They’re going to notice that we’re not there soon.” I pointed out.

“Fair point. Come on, back to the gremlins.”

 

A little while later, we were all standing on the porch with Mabel and Dipper when Stan glanced around nervously before tapping the bottle of soda he was holding. The crowd surrounding our home quietened down expectantly.

“Everyone, I have an announcement to make.” Stan glanced at me nervously. I nodded encouragingly. Stan nodded back, before turning back to the crowd with more confidence.

“Me and my, heh! My nerdy bro over here have some catchin’ up to do, and we’re gonna be away for a while. An’ poor Carla can’t keep this place open by herself. Time to let Mr and Mrs Mystery retire folks. That’s why we’re shutting down the Mystery Shack down for good.”

A wave of murmuring and quiet gasps rippled through the crowd, Mabel and Dipper looking at us in surprise.

A sudden yell caught our attention as Soos stood up in the crowd.

“You shut down your _mouth_ for good!” Soos looked torn between crying and having a tantrum as he climbed onto the porch next to us. “I’m sorry Mr Pines. It’s just that this shack is the most magical place on Earth. Sure, the attractions are fake, but dreams aren’t fake!” Soos held up on of our oldest exhibits, the old Fiji mermaid taxidermy. “Like, this mermaid. It’s not just a dead fish butt sewn to a monkey carcass. It’s a marvellous creature that makes us believe that anything is possible. You taught me that. That’s what you said this place was. You shut down this shack, and you shut down our dreams! At least... my dreams.”

As the crowd awed in sympathy for the sad looking Soos, I stepped forward and rested a hand on Stan’s arm. We’d never truly considered what would happen with Soos after the Mystery Shack was closed. I suddenly wanted to take it all back, promise Soos that we’d never do something so awful to him... I squeezed Stan’s arm sadly, Stan glancing down at me before looking at Soos again.

Stan placed his hand over mine with a sad sigh.

“I’m sorry, Soos. It’s just, there’s not going to anyone around to run it.”

I caught sight of Stan’s cocky smile right before he reach up to his head. My darling seemed to up to his usual cons, plucking his fez from his head.

“Or, at least, there _wouldn’t_ be if I hadn’t just found the perfect replacement.” Stan tossed his fez onto Soos’ head with a grin. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Mystery Shack is under new management!”

I hurried over to hug Soos tightly, planting a kiss on his cheek as the crowd cheered, Mabel and Dipper louder than anyone else.

“Do us proud sweetheart.” I whispered to a stunned Soos as I stepped back with a smile, Stan curling an arm around me happily.

“Do, do you... you mean it, Mr Mystery?” Soos asked nervously, almost worried it was imaginary.

Stan just kept grinning.

“You’re Mr Mystery now Soos. Keep Carla safe and try not to burn the place down.”

Soos began to grin happily, hugging Mabel and Dipper tightly as the crowd cheered louder still.

I gently tugged Stan back, a happy smile on my face.

“You’re a brilliant father.” I said softly, laughing at the shock on Stan’s face. “You’ve made one boy very happy.”

“I knew it!”

Stan and I jumped at Ford’s outburst.

“I knew Soos seemed too familiar for it to be a coincidence!” Ford looked so proud of himself.

Stan puzzled his way through his brother’s words, eventually laughing loudly as I watched on with a smile.

“You thought-? Really Sixer? You’re not as smart as you think!”

“Soos, isn’t our son Ford.” I added, “At least, not biologically.”

“But, but, I was so sure...” Ford’s face fell as Mabel and Dipper ran over, interrupting us all.

“Come you guys!” Mabel encouraged, “Time to PAARRTYY!” She grabbed Dipper’s arm and leapt off the porch into the crowd, Dipper yelling in alarm behind her.

“Don’t worry Ford, we’ll explain the birds and the bees to you later.” I teased, taking hold of Stan’s hand and heading for the stairs.

Ford just laughed, Stan grabbing his brother’s hand and forcing him to join us in the celebration of the year.

 

**~A Few Days Later~**

The Shack was quiet, and after a summer of noise and excitement, it felt eerie to be here alone as I swept the floor of the museum.

Mabel and Dipper had long since departed back to Piedmont, calling us almost immediately after they had gotten home safe, Soos and Mona were currently back at their old house making sure they’d left nothing behind in their move, and Stan and Ford were still out haggling over a boat for their trip... the Shack had been, and still was, a mess of people packing to leave and unpacking to stay.

And me... floating somewhere in the middle.

As I pushed the broom idly around the exhibits, a few stray sequins and chewed pen caps emerged from their hiding places under the exhibit stands. I paused, staring down at the items with a faint smile.

I missed those kids terribly. So did Stan. And Ford... Soos, Wendy, Candy, Greta, the Gnomes, McGucket... everyone missed them. The day they left, after their party, it had been awful at the bus stop. It was the first time I’d seen Stan ready to start bawling like a child since we were **actually** children ourselves.

And Waddles, god I missed that sweet pig. Matt and Emily were less than pleased to suddenly find themselves the owners of a pig from Oregon, but it had been wonderful to see Stan and Ford threaten the bus driver together to... hmm, maybe I shouldn’t be praising that behaviour... But Mabel had been ecstatic to keep her beloved pig, so I suppose the occasional threatening was probably ok. Probably.

I started to sweep again, other mementos from the summer gradually being unearthed.

Confetti from parties, leftover campaign stickers, sock puppet supplies, crystal fragments, desiccated bits of zombie, mirror slivers, egg shell fragments from Compy apparently, Chipacker crumbs, more sequins and glitter, even more chewed and ink splattered pens and paper... I swept everything into a pile, starting to sway softly as I did so.

Sweeping the museum had always been my job, becoming something of a relaxing chore that I tended to do when I was bored or troubled. Or sometimes simply because I had nothing else to do.

Beginning to hum an old song, I let my mind wander to Stanley and Ford’s upcoming trip yet again as my feet lead me into an idle dance around the floor.

I still had my concerns about it, but Ford had so far managed to assuage most my fears. My biggest fear was still Stan’s memory. While he seemed to be fine most days, he still had gaps that could cause a few problems at times. I was most worried about what would happen if Stan’s memory began to deteriorate while out at sea. He could freak out and fall over board and drown, or attack Ford and then they both end up dead at sea, they could get ship wrecked, lost... I wouldn’t know about it, I’d lose them all over again and then what would I do? There was nothing Ford could say to-

“I love it when ya dance while sweeping.”

Stan’s voice snapped me out of my mental spiral. I spun round to find Stan leaning against the Sascrotch, watching me with a soft smile. He pushed off the exhibit and sauntered towards me.

“What are you doing back? Get in trouble for threatening someone over the price of the boat?” I teased as Stan took the broom from my hands without a fight.

“Nah. Had to drag Ford away though. Don’t remember him having such a temper. Reckon I might have to be the one protecting him out there.” Stan joked.

“You always protected him Stan.” I reminded him gently, not entirely sure if Stan had forgotten or was just being colourful.

“Suppose there’s no need to break the habit of a lifetime then.” Stan stretched back and rested the broom against Sascrotch before gently taking my hands. “What about you baby?”

“What about me?” I cocked my head at him.

“How am I gonna be able to protect **you** if I’m not here?”

“I’ve got Soos. And besides, I’m not helpless. I can handle myself.”

“I remember.” Stan grinned.

“What was the boat like then?” I asked, changing the subject now I wasn’t able to sweep.

“Looks pretty perfect for what we need. Needs a few minor repairs, and Sixer wants to add a whole bunch of nerdy crap,” Stan snorted, dismissing that thought with his hand, “but she floats and that’s good enough for me.”

I bit my tongue, thinking of plenty of reasons why a boat that simply floats would not be good enough. Stan seemed to pick up on my misgivings, glancing down at me with narrowed eyes.

“What aren’t you telling me Carla?”

“Nothing.” I plastered a smile on my face, going to move away as Stan quickly wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me from running.

“Carla?” He repeated meaningfully, arching an eyebrow in an irritatingly accurate copy of my own when I wanted him to spill the beans.

“Hey. That’s my trick mister.” I protested uselessly.

Stan stayed silent, still eyeballing me.

“Stop it! That’s really annoying!”

“Just tell me the truth then.”

Once again, I bit my tongue. Stan had always dreamed of sailing the world with his brother, I wasn’t about to say anything that might stop him.

“Is it the twins? Are ya missing them?” Stan tried when I didn’t answer.

“Everyone is missing them. But _I’m_ fine, absolutely nothing wrong.” I excused again, not fully able to meet Stan’s eyes.

“Geez baby, when’d you become such a bad liar?” Stan smirked, “I know there’s something wrong and I’m not letting ya go ‘till you tell me.”

“So if I don’t tell you what’s bothering me, you won’t be able to leave and get yourself into a situation you might not come home from? I’m never telling you then.” I muttered stubbornly, finally caving and slumping forward to bury my face in Stan’s chest. Stan automatically wrapped his arms around me tightly.

“Wait. Is this about me and Sixer going sailing?”

I may have just been torturing myself, but I swore I heard the disappointment radiating in Stan’s voice.

I made a non-committal noise in response.

“’Cause, ya know, if you really don’t want us to go... I’m sure Sixer could take the other old town kook with him...”

I groaned, annoyed at myself. This was exactly what I’d wanted to avoid!

“I think I trust McGucket and Ford even less then I trust **_you_** and Ford.” I sighed as I straightened. “It’s just, just... you’re going to be so far away. And after this summer, your memory, Ford’s tendencies to forget about food and safety-”

Stan cut me off with a gentle hand across my mouth, his expression telling me everything I needed to know. I rolled my eyes, knowing I was defeated.

There it was. That firmly set mouth that prompted no arguments, below cocky and knowing eyes that were somehow able to ease and reinforce my worries simultaneously. But, there was also warmth and concern under that typical stubborn Pines expression, reassuring me that whatever happened, Stan would be coming home to me, come Hell or high water.

“I hate it when you do that.” I pouted when Stan lowered his hand.

“You knew about it when ya agreed to marry me.” Stan grinned, pleased to have won.

“I never married you.” I shot back, a smile stealing onto my face despite my reluctance.

“Technicality baby.” Stan waved a hand dismissively before grabbing my hand tightly. “Why didn’t ya talk to me about how worried you are? What have I told ya? Don’t just cut me out.”

“I didn’t want you to think I didn’t want you to go. Ford has been trying to reassure me, but he’s nowhere near as good as you are, though I’m fairly certain you just lie to me until I stop nagging you, but at least I know I can _sort of_ believe you, but after you lost your memory and the idea of you being so far away, I just couldn’t bring myself to bring it up. I do want you to go, I really do, you always dreamed of going, and I do trust Ford, he’s your brother after all and I just, just...” I caught sight of Stan fighting back laughter and groaned. “Don’t laugh Stanley! I’m trying to, I’m being ser- I’m being an old worry wart, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely. But don’t worry, I love ya just the same.” Stan lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. “If it helps, I’m pretty sure I’ve only survived this long because you’ve worried about me.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes again. Stan was the old flatterer to my old worrier. And damn him if it didn’t always work. Bastard.

“You just make sure that with all the nerdy junk Ford wants to put in that boat, he adds something that means I can reach you.” I warned, officially resigning myself to worrying from the second they set sail. “I mean it Stan. And it’s not just for me. You think Mabel and Dipper aren’t going to want to hear from you both? Stan?”

Stan had been looking distractedly around the exhibits, a wistful look on his face.

“Huh, oh. Right. Got it.” He answered, blustering his way through an answer.

“You’re going to miss the old place.” I guessed, knowing that look.

“Yeah. Been a lifetime here ya know, like letting go of part of myself. I mean, who am I without Mr Mystery?”

“Stanley Pines. Beloved partner and treasured brother, adored great uncle, town hero and pest, a con man with a rap sheet a mile long, the inventor of burglebezzlement... and that’s just what I can name off the top of my head.”

Stan chuckled, his hand moving to rest on my waist lightly.

“Alright, alright. But can we at least add treasure hunter and pirate to that list?”

“Absolutely.” I stood on tiptoe and kissed his nose sweetly. “I suppose that means you’ll be taking your eye patch with you.”

“Damn straight.” Stan grinned, a faint pink flush on his cheeks. “Now. What can I do to make you worry less?”

“Tell me you’re not leaving?” I suggested uselessly with a smile.

“Not much chance there baby. How’s about a dance instead?”

“Well, you did cut in and take away my previous dance partner,” I sighed theatrically as if making the hardest decision of my life. “so I suppose I can give you one dance.”

Stan snorted as we started to move, a clumsy waltz that was out of time and step until Stan seemed to wrangle his feet under control again with some effort.

“I swear, this used ta be easier.” He muttered.

“We haven’t danced like this since your memory came back. Relax, it’s like riding a bike. You’ll get it.” I encouraged, gently steering us away from the swept up debris.

And sure enough, before long, Stan began to move much more smoothly and even found his old confidence at leading, effortlessly dancing us through the museum on light feet.

It was like waltzing through our memories, every step and turn unlocking yet another snapshot of our life together in the old house.

The first official tour where Stan had worked out how to use the loose floor board to terrify kids with moving monsters, the still slightly charred deer taxidermy which had been a fiery “Annoyed- Vengeance-Creature-from-the-Devil’s-Caves” until Stan set fire to it for “more authenticity” while dressed as the Devil himself (don’t ask), the Turduckhen I had created and Stan had laughed himself stupid before giving it pride of place, where we’d been standing when we found out we’d never be able to have children... right next to the spot where Stan had held me as I wept and promised fiercely that it changed nothing and we’d always have each other... I could feel a lump in my throat at that particular memory, happy to push it away as Stan began to sing low and off-key.

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when. But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day.”

I smiled and joined in as easily as I had every other time, another wave of memories sweeping me away into our past.

“Keep smiling through, just like you always do. ‘Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.”

Stan grinned as we turned into the halls of the house, drawing me closer to avoid the doorway.

“So will you please say hello to the folks that I know. Tell them I won’t be long.”

“They’ll be happy to to know, that as you say me go, I was singing this song.”

Our voices echoed happily in the rafters of the house as we ended up in the familiar and comforting lounge, the hub of our entire lives. Complete with the ever indestructible yellow recliner.

“We’ll meet again,” Stan and I continued to dance and sing together, both oblivious to anything or anyone else outside our little bubble, “don’t know where, don’t know when. But I know we’ll meet again-”

A loud and sudden scream cut us off, both jumping and turning to find Ford seized by terror in the door frame. Stan had grabbed me tightly, prepared to place me behind him to keep me from harm. Stan’s grip relaxed slightly now he could see it was just Ford, but he didn’t move his arm from around me.

“Geez Sixer. If ya hate my singing that much...” he grumbled out of reflex. I watched Ford carefully, noticing the blank stare and trembling. Uh oh.

“I don’t think it was your singing Stan.” I whispered, taking a few steps towards Ford, who shuddered as I approached. “Ford? Stanford? Here, take my hand ok?”

Ford took my hand without a word, but refused to move as I attempted to pull him further into the lounge. He was still focused on some distant spot above Stan’s right shoulder, muttering to himself.

_“Can’t be, he’s gone, just a song, just a song... Prom, Carla’s hand, stars, good memories, not Bill, not here, good memory, good memory, focus on good, focus on good. Focus on Carla’s hand, right now, here, Carla, Stan, safe. Safe from him.”_

“That’s right Ford,” I soothed softly, rubbing my thumb over the back of his hand as I quelled the cold fear in my own stomach. “Bill’s not here. Bill’s gone, Stanley defeated him, you’re safe.”

“Yeah Sixer-”

Ford whirled round, pushing me away with a wild cry and drawing a gun from somewhere before aiming it at Stan.

“Don’t!” He snarled, face vicious and ugly. “Don’t you dare call me that again!”

“Whoa! Stanford!” Stan looked panicked and I grabbed Ford’s arm on instinct, ignoring the fact that Ford had the potential to kill us.

“Ford, Ford! It’s me, Carla! Put the gun down!” I ordered, relieved to see some light flicker in Ford’s eyes at the sound of my voice. He slowly lowered the gun while breathing harshly. Both Stan and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ok. Let’s just all take a deep breath, ok?” I suggested.

Ford glanced between Stan and myself, some life coming back to him as he saw the gun in his hand. Another look of horror crossed his face and he let out a thin cry before dropping it to the floor.

“Oh god! Stan, Stanley! I’m, I’m sorry! I never, I didn’t-”

Stan was on his brother in an instant, wrapping him tightly in hug that lifted Ford off the floor.

“What the hell is the matter with you Poindexter?” Stan muttered gruffly, no heat or accusation in his words.

“Your singing really is still terrible.” Ford joked weakly as they parted, staring at the floor while rubbing his neck. Stan was practically mirroring his movements.

“So. I take it that song is something else Bill ruined for you?” I asked in the silence that followed.

“Unfortunately.” Ford admitted. I leaned forward and nudged Stan’s arm.

“Guess we need to find a new song sweetheart.”

“What? No! I can work on, I can try-” Ford was cut off by Stan slapping his arm genially.

“Relax Six- ah, Ford. That song’s older than us anyway. Should probably update it.”

Ford frowned.

“Ah. Well, you can still call me,” He took a deep breath, “Sixer, Stanley. It just caught me at a bad time.”

“Right. Don’t call you Sixer while ya freaking out about somethin’ else. Got it.”

As the boys fell quiet, it seemed the best time to try and lighten the mood.

“You know, I think I’ve been worrying about the wrong twin at sea.” I commented airily, now everyone was calmer. “Here I was thinking Stanley would be the liability.”

Stan chuckled as Ford went from sheepish to annoyed in the blink of an eye.

“I hardly think that my, ah, _episode_ , called my capabilities into question Carla.”

“Aww. Look at him. Resorting to using his nerd speak to convince ya baby.” Stan goaded, Ford’s annoyed look becoming more of a pout.

Time for me to go for the killing blow.

“Mabel was right. You really do look like an adorably mad owl when you’re annoyed.” I grinned, leaning back against the couch as Ford spluttered and Stan let out a belly laugh.

“What?! I absolutely do not! That’s ridiculous, will you stop laughing Stanley!”

Stan collapsed next to me, pulling me down onto the couch with him as he laughed. The laughter was contagious and before long we were both helplessly laughing as Ford folded his arms and glared at us.

“You two are impossible.” He eventually huffed, a faint hint of a smile on his mouth.

“Uh huh. Which is why you love us.” I grabbed a handful of his trench coat and tugged it, Ford getting the message and sitting next to Stan.

“Maybe, given our mental states, it would be unwise to sail to the Arctic.” Ford sighed as Stan hoisted me onto his lap properly, my legs stretching over Fords.

“If we’re talking mental states,” I snorted, “we all need to check into an institution. We’re all screwy.”

“I’m never going back to those kinda places baby.” Stan grimaced, “I’ll take loopy over locked up and loopy.”

“Oh yeah.” I pecked his cheek. “Forgot, sorry. But still. Hypnotised, amnesiac, and traumatised. Let’s face it, most people wouldn’t trust any us unsupervised.”

“They shouldn’t trust Stan unsupervised anyway.” Ford lightly kicked his brother’s ankle.

“Hey! You’re the maniac with the gun problem.” Stan retorted with a grin.

“You said you have ten guns and I’M the one with the problem?!”

“At least mine are only earth guns!”

“Alright. You got me there, but I still don’t trust you unsupervised!”

“I ran a business for 30 years unsupervised, ya old nerd!”

“You had Carla, you knucklehead!”

“Leave my wife out of this!”

“Girlfriend! Not wife!”

“I think I’m far too old to be anyone’s girlfriend.” I said over the playful banter, wrinkling my nose at the juvenile wording. “And now I’m starting to feel sorry for the sea creatures that are going to have to deal with listening to you two every day.”  
“You’ll be glad to get rid of us Carla.” Ford grinned.

“Never. Well, maybe. If it means I get a moments peace and quiet around here.”

“You’ll miss me the most though.” Stan squeezed my waist knowingly as Ford snorted.

“She’s spent every day with your ugly mug. I think she’ll be glad to see the back of it.”

“Not when it’s it late at night and she’s got no one to cuddle.” Stan winked cockily and I rolled my eyes.

“How soon can you leave?”

 

**~Two weeks later~**

“You’re sure? You’ll be back for Christmas? In California?” I asked for what felt like the millionth time. Stan just smiled patiently and rested a broad palm against my cheek, allowing me to nuzzle his warm hand almost imperceptibly.

“Promise baby.”

I swallowed against the lump in my throat and nodded curtly as I pulled away.

“Right. Now, go say goodbye to Soos.” I ordered, my sharp and tight voice not lost on Stan who kissed my forehead before moving away to shake Soos’ hand firmly.

I took a deep breath, nose filling with the salty smell of the wharf as I tried to hold back my tears. I could cry all the way back to Gravity Falls, but I wasn’t going to cry here. At least, not until Stan and Ford were out of sight.

Travelling up to Portland had felt like a step back in time. After all, Portland was where Stan and I had gotten “married”. And since Ford had opted to give us some final hours of privacy, riding next to Soos in the truck that was towing their boat, it had just been Stan and I together in the Diablo, alone for the first time in what felt like years.

_“Ya sure ya gonna be ok without me?” Stan had asked, concern very clear in his voice._

_“Yes. I’m still going to be living in the Shack. Mona sorted out all the rooms, and Soos is still going to need help getting into the swing of things. We’re going to be fine sweetheart.”_

_“Just checkin’. Don’t wanna ring and find out the place has burnt to the ground or somethin’.”_

_“Like it did twice while you were in charge?”_

_“I could still make you walk Carla.”_

_“No you couldn’t. Soos and Ford are behind us. They’d pick me up.”_

_Silence._

_“What’s the word for when ya happy and sad all at the same time? But also kinda nervous... Or maybe it’s just gas, am I just gassy?”_

_“You’ve always been gassy. But I think the word you’re looking for is tumultuous.”_

_“Right, right... I’m gonna miss ya, you know that, right?”_

_“Only until you find your first “babe” to flirt with, then it’ll be Carla who?” I’d joked weakly._

_“I’m serious baby. How am I gonna get through the day without your gorgeous face?”_

_“You’ll have to make do with Ford’s.”_

_“Urgh. That’s it. I’m not going.”_

_“You’re such a child.”_

_Silence._

_“I’m really going to miss you too Stan. Don’t die.”_

 

“Carla?”

I snapped out of my mile-wide stare to find Ford standing awkwardly beside me, shifting from foot to foot.

“Yeah Ford?”

“Are you alright?”

“Just admiring the ocean. And being very glad my feet are on firm, solid ground.”

“Are you going to be ok? At the Shack, I mean, without Stanley or I?”

I smiled, a quiet laugh escaping me.

“What is it with you and Stan? Some sort of twin instinct?”

“TWINSTINCT!” Stan yelled behind me, a squeak leaving my lips as Stan laughed and curled his arms around me.

“Just one last scare to remember me by.” Stan pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“That’s it! Get your butts on that boat and don’t come back... until December.” I snapped, relenting slightly. Stan chuckled and released me as a he caught sight of a dark blonde haired woman joining Soos.

“That’s Melody huh?” He asked, a gleam in his eye.

“Yes, but Stan don’t do whatever it is you’re thinking. Soos really likes her- Stan, Stan? Stan, no!” I tried to pull on his arm, Stan easily shaking me off.

“I just wanna talk to her.” He shrugged as he sauntered towards the young couple.

“You better keep him away from trouble Ford.” I sighed as I turned my back, refusing to see whatever Stanley had planned. Ford chuckled and rested a hand on my arm.

“I can’t promise that it won’t be _Stan_ getting us in trouble.” He said cheekily, “But I’m pretty sure we can out run any trouble we get into.”

I groaned and leaned against Ford as he hugged me goodbye.

“I want both of you back in one piece.” I muttered, shifting to hug him back tightly. “Just as you are now. Got it?”

“Got it. Take care of yourself Carla.” Ford pulled back slightly and I quickly kissed his cheek.

“Enjoy yourself out there Ford. And seriously, don’t die. Or get maimed, or lost, or end up a monster’s dinner, or, or-”

“I love you too Carla.” Ford said quickly, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “You know, as a best friend and sister.”

“Yeah. Love you Ford.” I said softly as Stan loped back over.

“We ready to ship out Sixer?”

“Pretty much. You want a minute?” Ford jerked his eyebrows at me and Stan nodded. Ford planted a kiss on my cheek and strode off towards where the Stan O’War II was moored with a final shout and wave to Soos.

I watched him go, reluctant to look at Stan lest it cause my tears to start falling uncontrollably. Stan gently took hold of my hand, clearing his throat.

“We gotta go Carla, tide’s perfect...”

“I know.”

“We’ll be back for Christmas. It’s just a trial trip really.”

“I know.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I know.”

Stan sighed, moving away slightly. I tightened my grip on his hand.

“You come back to me Stanley Pines.” I ordered before flinging myself at him. Stan caught me with a slight stumble, recovering quick enough for me to plant a proper kiss on him.

“I mean it,” I warned him as I leaned back just enough, “you come back, you’re not allowed to die on me yet.”

“I promise.” Stan smiled, tears in his eyes as well now. “And ya not allowed to go anywhere near that good-for-nothing Bud Gleeful. He’ll be dying to get his greasy hands on ya now I’m not there.”

“You’re the only con man I want Stanley.” I kissed him again, not missing Soos’ enthusiastic cheer.

When we parted, Stan was visibly red and I was still attempting to see through the blur of my tears.

“I love you Stan.” I whispered as Stan placed me back on the ground.

“I love you too.” Stan rested his palm on my cheek for a moment before straightening. “Right. Got a boat to catch.”

“Stay safe.”

“You too. Ya hear that Soos? You protect Carla with ya life!” Stan ordered sternly, Soos snapping a salute as he and Melody wandered over.

“Yes sir!”

“Good. See you in December Carla.”

“Wanna kiss on it?” I asked tearfully, Stan’s breath hitching just slightly as a tear slipped from my eye.

“Like ya had to ask.” He whispered, stealing one last kiss. I let out a gentle sob, pouring everything into the kiss and feeling Stan do the same. His thumb swiped my tear away as we parted, his sad smile meeting mine.

“Three and a half months baby.”

“Counting the days.” I smiled, Stan finally moving away and walking down to the boat. He paused all of a sudden, slapping his forehead.

“Holy Moses! I almost forgot! Carla, catch!” Stan lobbed something at me, my fingers just grasping the glittering item as it sailed towards me. Oh. The car keys.

“Look after my baby while I’m gone. Ya the only one I trust with her.” Stan grinned, waving as he reached the boat and climbed up next to Ford.

I waved the keys with a grin, Stan blowing a kiss in return.

As Ford and Stan busied themselves with preparations to leave, Soos gently placed an arm around me.

“It’s ok Mrs Pines. We’ll see them again soon.”

“Yes Soos, yes we will.” I was grateful for the slight squeeze Soos gave me as Ford and Stan finally started for the mouth of the port.

We stood there, waving at two of the most important people in my life as they grew more and more distant. My tears finally began to fall, silent next to Soos’ noisier sobs.

“I’m gonna miss them Carla.” Soos dragged me into a proper hug and I patted his back softly.

“Me too Soos.”

By the time Soos’ crying had calmed, the Stan O’War II was far from sight, nothing more than a faint dot on the horizon.

I let Melody walk Soos back to his truck, staring after that small dot until it vanished completely.

Soos was right.

We’d see them again soon.

I turned my back on the water, heading towards the car.

After all, it wasn’t like goodbyes were forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to everyone who has read this story from start to finish. When I started this story, I was in a really bad place and needing something to focus on to give myself a reason to stay busy.  
> With every chapter, every kudos and every wonderful comment, you guys helped me in ways I can't explain. And not to sound creepy, I have kept every comment because you guys are just amazing! Thank you so much! This is the first time I've ever finished a fanfiction, let alone post it online, and it's been the most fun experience :)  
> Thank you for being awesome readers!  
> x


End file.
